


Fiona’s Whumptober 2019 Horror Event

by FionaNotJuliet



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Amputation, Angst, Arrows, Being eaten, Blood, Body Horror, Bullying, Burns, Cannibalism, Captivity, Clowns, Dehumanization, Dehydration, Derealization, Drowning, Drugging, Evisceration, Explosion, Fire, Guns, Gunshots, Horror, Kidnapping, Knives, Knocking someone out, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mental Illness, Monster - Freeform, Monster fic, Mutilation, Needles, Ritual Sacrifice, Self-Hatred, Self-Mutilation, Serial Killer, Stabbing, Starvation, Taunting, Torture, Unconscious, Vomiting, Whumptober 2019, Zombies, broken leg, car crash, dog attack, hidden love, mild violence, open fracture, serious injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-11-16 15:42:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 30,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20858438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FionaNotJuliet/pseuds/FionaNotJuliet
Summary: An anthology of short stories written for the angst and horror genre, based on prompt options for 2019 Whumptober.Triggers for individual chapters are located in the beginning notes. Please heed them.First feature: The Guess MonsterTendou’s peers had always called him a freak and a monster, never realizing just how right they were until it was too late.





	1. The Guess Monster

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for joining me on this journey. I’ve never done a writing challenge quite like this and I hope that it will help me to be more creative.
> 
> All tags will be updated with each new chapter.
> 
> First prompt: Shaky Hands. 
> 
> Title: The Guess Monster
> 
> Triggers include: major character death, blood, body horror, bullying, cannibalism

“ _ Guess monster! Guess monster! Tendou is a guess monster! _ ”

The taunts were nothing new. Tendou knew that he was different from the other kids. He just wished that they didn’t always feel the need to call him out. 

The young boy would take in a deep, calming breath, clenching his tiny fists, hoping to quell the shaking. He closed his eyes, shaking his head vehemently, trying to drown out the teasing.

Sometimes it worked. The shaking of his hands would stop. The yelling of his peers would disappear. It would become quiet for a while. Tendou would be happy. 

But only ever for a short time. 

The years would pass, but the names would persist. 

“ _ Freak! _ ” 

“ _ Monster! _ ”

By middle school, he knew to grit his teeth, sometimes catching his tongue in the process and tasting the tell tale copper taste of blood.

He was able to handle the teasing for longer and longer. But eventually, as it always happened, the shaking in his hands would return. 

The sounds grew into screams, his peers continually taunting him. Until finally he would snap and the shaking in his hands would stop. 

Finally, a little more peace. 

The pattern stopped once Tendou reached high school. For once, no one called him a freak. Now, ‘ _ guess monster _ ’ was a title he could wear with pride. 

He felt truly accepted and loved by his teammates.

Unfortunately, all good things would come to an end. 

Karasuno had beaten Shiratorizawa. 

Tendou Satori was being forced to say farewell to his paradise. 

Although he’d officially quit the volleyball club, as most third years would do once competition had finished, Tendou thought stopping by the gym every now and then was fun. 

He pushed his way into the locker room, a cat like grin on his face as he made his way to the locker he’d never truly cleared out. 

A huff of air from his locker mate, Shirabu, caught his attention. He turned his head, tilting it like an owl, trying to gauge what caused the irritation.

“Something on your mind, Shirabu?”

The second year gripped his locker, taking in a steadying breath as he tried to gain his composure. “Why are you even here, Tendou?”

The red head didn’t answer, still staring at the shorter boy with large eyes. He flinched as he heard the locker slam shut. 

“Well?” Shirabu asked, moving closer to Tendou, crowding his space. “Ushijima being here still makes sense. But you? You said you were leaving, right? So then why are you here?”

Tendou blinked, straightening his head. “I just— I wanted to help.”

An eye roll was the immediate response, along with a click of the tongue. “If you really wanted to help, then you’d leave. Let our other middle blockers learn! We get it, you have some freak intuition that lets you guess where the spoilers are going to be. Good for you ‘ _ guess monster _ ,’ but the rest of us have to read block like normal.”

The derision was clear in Shirabu’s tone and Tendou took a step back from the younger boy. The familiar shake made its way back to his hands. 

“Hey! Enough,” Ushijima interjected, placing himself between the two former teammates. “That was unnecessary.”

Shallow breaths escaped Tendou, his eyes wild and unfocused as he tried to regain his composure. It was nothing he hadn’t heard before, mild in comparison, but it still set something odd inside of him. 

“It was, actually! That freak is interrupting our practice and you know it!”

The shaking in his hands stopped. A wave of clarity began to wash over Tendou as his neck jerked, twisting his head in an awkward pose, eyes wide, pupils narrowing into slits.

“ _ Freak! _ ” Tendou parroted, his voice now a garbled echo of what it had sounded like just moments before. The sound causing most of team in the locker room to step back. 

Ushijima turned back to look at Tendou, concern on his face as he noticed the way that his friend look possessed. “Tendou? Are you okay?”

Long, grotesque claws split from underneath Tendou’s own fingernails. His eyes grew wider and his mouth began to split apart, leaving him with a sickening grin, fangs and rows of sharp teeth all visible through the split mouth. 

“ _ M-monster! _ ” 

Another voice that didn’t belong to Tendou came from his mouth, the word not sounding quite right considering his lips were shredded by his very own teeth. 

Shirabu gagged, not expecting the smell of blood to suddenly overwhelm the room, not to mention the site of the creature that once was Tendou Satori. 

“Satori…” 

The sound of his given name cause Tendou to crouch, gazing curiously at Ushijima, noting the look of concern on his best friend’s face. However, the creature didn’t care about human connections anymore. 

Long, jagged claws darted forward, burying themselves in Ushijima’s chest, before pulling out the beating heart. 

A final exhale escaped Ushijima’s lips, sounding eerily close to what could have been ‘sorry,’ or another utteration of ‘Satori.’ However, there would be no clarification as the former ace fell to the floor in a heap.

The creature laughed hollowly, before tearing into the muscle, teeth easily shredding the heart. As he swallowed, the laughed grew to become deeper, sickeningly close to what Ushijima’s had sounded like in life. 

Once the sights and sounds caught up to the Shiratorizawa team, chaos erupted in the locker room as everyone tried to get away from the creature. 

One by one, he picked them off, soaring no one, not a single soul. Their voices disappeared, swallowed by the creature once and for all. They wouldn’t call him a freak again. 


	2. Flames of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi And Bokuto enjoy a quiet stroll home in the fall rain. But sometimes the quiet is meant to be broken. 
> 
> Prompt Day 2- Explosion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you’re still enjoying these.
> 
> Triggers: car crash, explosion, fire, burns, body horror, vomiting

Rain lightly fell to the ground, the pitter-patter sound glancing off the top of Akaashi’s purple umbrella. He hummed quietly to himself, eyes closing for a moment as he let the crisp, fall air brush across his cheeks. 

He opened one eye, sparing a glance to his left where Bokuto was quietly walking beside him. It was a rare moment of peace between the two, but silence from Bokuto was never quite what Akaashi wanted.

“Say, Bokuto-San. What do you have going through your head?”

While others would cherish the rare quiet moment from Fukurodani’s ace and captain, Akaashi was not one of those people. From the moment that he met Bokuto, he knew that he wanted to always share a space with the enthusiastic and charming boy. 

“Eh? Nothing, really. I was just thinking about how we would be going to National’s together.”

Akaashi nodded, the slightest upcurve of a smile crossed his lips; a rare smile that was only for Bokuto to see. “We will. But we knew that even before the tourney.” 

A lop-sided grin could be seen on Bokuto’s face as he turned more to Akaashi. It was always a treat for the usually humble setter to let his own pride show. “True. But this is it. This is our chance to win together.”

There was a moment of silence, Bokuto’s gray eyebrows drawing together as he thought. “It’s our last chance…”

There it was. Akaashi had known that something more was bothering Bokuto and this just proved his point. 

He spared a glance down both ends of the residential street, noting that it was curiously empty, before reaching his free hand over and taking Bokuto’s hand, twining their fingers together. 

“Koutarou, this isn’t the end of us.”

Bokuto sucked in a sharp breath, a product of the use of his given name, combined with the fact that Akaashi had managed to figure out just what had been festering deep down. 

“You’ll go to university next year and then I’ll join you. In between, we’ll still be able to see each other. It’ll be as if nothing had changed, except for where we go to school.”

A small smile crossed Bokuto’s lips as he nodded. He knew that Akaashi was right, he always was. “You’re always so sure, Keiji.”

A brilliant smile spread across Akaashi’s face, the kind that always managed to light him up. “I’m only sure about this, Bokuto-San. Us.”

Bokuto laughed, loud and raucous, the way Akaashi liked it, before crowding closer to the second year, his other arm wrapping around Akaashi’s waist. 

It was a bold move, given they were currently still in the public eye and Akaashi wasn’t one for public displays of affection, but the setter simply smiled and leaned into the closeness. 

Their lips came together, feather light, just flutters against one another, but it was special, as it always was. 

They broke apart just seconds after the soft kiss, only for Bokuto to lean in and press more gentle kisses across Akaashi’s cheeks, causing him to let out a small giggle, one of Bokuto’s favorite sounds. 

The peace of the quiet street was broken suddenly by the sound of car tires squealing along the slick pavement. It was clear that the driver had lost control of their steering and was currently hydroplaning. 

A panic settled in between the two volleyball players as they both realized that something very bad was about to happen. 

They ran down the sidewalk, trying to reach the end of the street, hoping they would be able to escape the careening car in time. 

Luckily for them, the car over corrected and smashed into a telephone pole. The metal crunch of the car wrapping around the pole and the shattering of the windshield was all that was heard before sudden, deafening silence. 

Bokuto and Akaashi unbraced themselves, realizing that they had clung to each other at the last second, sure in those last few moments that they would be smashed by the car. 

Akaashi stood, shivering, realizing just how close he and Bokuto had come to death. They had been standing right by that pole just moments before. 

Gentle hands took his face, causing him to jump as he realized that Bokuto was checking him over for any potential injuries. 

“I’m fine, Bokuto-San,” he said quietly, shaking his head as he turned to face the other boy. “Are you okay?”

A nod was his immediate answer, followed quickly by a smile. “I’m right as rain! But I don’t think the driver can say the same. We should check on them.”

Akaashi glances back at the car, noting the way the hood had wrapped around the pole all the way up to the windshield. “Bokuto-San. I don’t think that’s a good idea. We should just call the authorities.”

Bokuto sighed, getting ready to agree with Akaashi, when suddenly a flicker of light caught his eye. Panic renewed itself as he realized that a spark from the crash had caught something on fire within the car. 

“There’s no time for that!” He yelled, already running for the car and yanking on the door frantically. 

Akaashi followed Bokuto’s previous line of sight, realizing why the sudden urgency. It was in that moment, he realized that things were going very wrong.

Time almost seemed to slow down for him, much like in a volleyball game, when he had to take in every detail of the scene around him. 

Akaashi quickly made a few observations. He noted the small flames. The sight of thick, dark smoke escaping from under the hood. Lastly, he took note of something dripping out of the car and puddling underneath. 

His legs moved faster than he’d ever managed to make them move before. Pure adrenaline coursed through his veins as he ran directly to Bokuto, pulling on the older boy. 

“Leave it! Get away from there, Koutarou!”

Bokuto was heavy and hard to move, but Akaashi continued to steam forward, pushing him away from the car with every ounce of strength he had in his muscles. 

“Someone’s in there, Keiji!” Bokuto tried to argue, fighting back against Akaashi. “They could d-“ 

Bokuto’s words were quickly swallowed up by a loud wooshing sound that rattled his ear drums. Was it the sound or was it the feeling of Akaashi pushing him down onto the street, causing his head to hit the pavement? He wasn’t sure. 

Intense heat was felt as the car was engulfed by flames. 

Moments later, or maybe it was hours? Bokuto wasn’t really sure. But he woke up, flat on his back, his head aching. 

“Akaashi?” He groaned out, feeling the weight of the other boy on top of him. 

“Y-yes, Bokuto-San?”

Something wasn’t right. Akaashi’s voice sounded strained. He was in pain, Bokuto realized. 

Quickly sitting up, Bokuto ignored the black spots in his vision from the concussion that he was sure was overtaking him. He ignored the wave of nausea that immediately hit him the moment he was fully upright.

Another groan from Akaashi was all it took for Bokuto to regain his composure and realize that something was very wrong. 

Akaashi was in pain. Bokuto knew that for sure. The second thing that Bokuto was aware of was an awful charred smell of flesh and hair. 

Shaking, Bokuto took in a breath, immediately regretting it as the smell forced its way further into his nostrils. He turned fully to look down at Akaashi in his lap, a strangled cry escaping his throat the moment he saw the state of his best friend and love. 

The dots connected, making bile rise up in Bokuto’s throat as he realized what had happened. He turned away from Akaashi to empty the contents of his stomach to the side. 

Akaashi had realized that the car was about to blow up. He’d tried to warn Bokuto, protect him. But Bokuto could only think of trying to save the person in the car. He’d even fought Akaashi, trying to get back to the car. 

Akaashi had pushed Bokuto down to the ground as the heat had suddenly grown, signaling the ignition of the fire. They had still been much too close to the car. 

Bokuto looked down at his boyfriend, tears filling his eyes as he looked Akaashi over, finally taking in his full appearance. 

Burns covered the entire left hand side of Akaashi’s shoulder and face. Bokuto wasn’t an expert but even he could tell from the way the skin looked, white in some places and fully black in others, that they were third degree. Akaashi’s left eye and ear hadn’t been spared, the skin and fat tissue nearly melted completely. 

“Keiji. Oh, Keiji, I’m so sorry,” Bokuto sobbed, his hands not quite sure where to go, but knowing that he shouldn’t touch or disturb Akaashi. 

Labored breathing was all that answered him for several minutes, shock nearly taking over Akaashi, a cold feeling settling over his limbs despite the multiple burns.

“A-Ah. It’s okay,” the words came out mumbled, stumbling out from barely moving lips. “As long as you’re, Ah, safe, B-Bokuto-San.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> If it isn’t clear, Akaashi does live, at least for now, but he’s severely disfigured. And yes, Bokuto did sustain some burns, but between the concussion and worrying about Akaashi, he didn’t even feel them. And they were much less severe


	3. It’s All Fun And Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 prompt: Delirium 
> 
> Kuroo is going out of town for a volleyball training camp, leaving Kenma alone in their shared apartment for a week. How does the old saying go? When the cat’s away, the mice will play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: knives, blood, stabbing, major character death

When he was younger, there were rules in place to keep Kenma from staying up late playing whatever video game currently had his attention. Logically, he knew the rules were in place for his own safety and health. Yet, he had grown to resent them.

That’s why as he grew up, he got a little more crafty. He never broke the rules, but he did bend them as far as he was able. 

If he went to sleep at a decent hour, then his parents would count that as sleep, even if it only amounted to what was essentially a nap. He’d wake up early and continue to play his game until the early morning hours where he was forced to go to school. 

This pattern continued well into high school. Which is to say that Kenma was fairly used to a lack of sleep. Of course, he was always tired, but it had become his new baseline of normal. Any time he actually got more than four hours of sleep, he was left feeling more exhausted and like his entire body was itching. 

However, Kenma was at university, meaning that he no longer had to abide by his parents rules. This delighted him, until he realized that he was sharing an apartment with Kuroo, who demanded that Kenma get at least a few hours rest every day. 

Kenma obliges, albeit begrudgingly, but he never followed a set schedule. He slept whenever it suited him. Right after class. Right before class. All at times that Kuroo was able to see and approve.

So, he got used to his new normal. He went to class. He did his class work. He napped and then played games. It wasn’t a bad arrangement. 

However, things were about to change. 

“You remember I’m going to be out of town all week?” Kuroo asked that morning, scooping rice into a bowl and sliding it across the table to Kenma who was tapping away at a game on his phone.

A slight hum left the younger man’s lips, before he nodded for added effect. Normally, he didn’t care if others thought that his manner of communication was rude, but he liked to make an effort for Kuroo.

“We have food in the fridge. So don’t survive on junk and carry out.” Kuroo checked over his list of things he had packed for the training camp the university volleyball club had decided to put on.

Kenma gave another hum, a sign that he was listening and taking in the information that Kuroo was giving him. He set the phone down and balked in surprise as he felt the arms suddenly wrapping around him.

Kuroo held Kenma, suddenly overwhelmed with a need to give him more affection. “I’m going to miss you.”

The smallest of smiles spread across Kenma’s face as he turned into the hug, his face now buried in Kuroo’s chest. “I’ll miss you, too, Kuro.” 

They both moved at the same time, tilting their heads to the right angle where they could slot their lips together in a gentle kiss.

As they parted, Kuroo leaned in to press another kiss to Kenma’s forehead. “Remember to sleep and eat.” It was a habit of his at this point to remind Kenma of daily tasks. 

Kenma scoffed, rolling his eyes affectionately. “I will. Remember to call me.” He knew he didn’t have to remind Kuroo of such a thing, seeing as the older man would likely call him every few hours. 

“Will do. Love you, Kenma,” Kuroo said, grabbing his bags and blowing a kiss at his love.

Kenma snorted at the ridiculous action, but smiled nevertheless. “Love you, too, Kuro.”

And with that, Kenma was left to his own devices for the next week. 

A wicked smile immediately marked his face as he got up and hurried to the couch. He turned on the tv and the console, ready to play the new game he had bought specifically for this event. 

Because of course without Kuroo being there, Kenma had the perfect excuse to stay up late killing the different creatures that came across the screen in the horror/survival game. 

He tried to keep his promise to Kuro, he really did. He even napped the first day, mostly out of habit over anything else. But the game was so fun and it easily pulled him in. 

It had been a long time since Kenma had been able to fully give himself to a game, bingeing as long as he could stand, only taking breaks to use the bathroom and grab something quick to eat from the kitchen. 

The first few days, Kenma continued to answer his phone, almost cheerily replying to Kuroo, asking him about the training camp and if he knew anyone from the past. A little guilt seeped in as he told Kuroo that of course he was getting sleep. But he figured what Kuroo didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. He’d just sleep the day before Kuroo got back. 

On day four, Kenma was no longer answering his phone. He’d forgotten to plug it in and it had died sometime in the night. His days were melding together, or else he might have realized that it hadn’t rung in hours. 

The real trouble set in around day five, when Kenma began to hear whispers. It would be in moments of complete quiet. The game would be paused and he’d be contemplating calling Kuroo, but there would be whispers.

They would sound so real and so close, that Kenma would swing around quickly, nearly giving himself whiplash, as he searched for the source of the whispers. 

His heart rate picked up each and every time. 

“They’re coming for you.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he quickly turned to the right. He knew for a fact that wasn’t in the game. A cut scene had been playing and then the quiet voice had been clear as day in his ear. 

Pausing the game, Kenma quickly stood up, making his way to the kitchen and grabbing a butcher’s knife. He wasn’t one for cooking, but he knew that Kuroo kept the knives sharp. It would serve as a perfect self defense weapon. 

The eerie music of the game continued to fill the apartment as he made his way through, systematically checking each nook and cranny. Once he was satisfied with the emptiness of the apartment, Kenma made his way to the bathroom.

He set the knife aside and turned the faucets on. He didn’t feel tired, but maybe some water would help him to refocus. He closed his eyes and splashed the cool water on his face. 

Sighing, he turned the faucet off and reached for the fluffy hand towel, bringing it to his face to pat it dry. As he pulled it back, he opened his eyes and gagged. 

Blood was covering his face and the towel. He wretched a little and threw the towel to the ground. He stumbled back into the door, jumping again as the open door hit the wall. 

He blinked a few times and took in a deep breath before he brought his eyes back up to the mirror. Where there was nothing. His face was just his face. There was no blood in sight. 

He looked down to the towel he had thrown and realized it was as white as the day they bought it. 

Taking in a shaky breath, Kenma grabbed the knife and marched back to the couch. He slammed the knife onto the coffee table and huffed out a sigh of annoyance. 

Maybe he was getting weaker the older he got. He used to stay up for three days with no problem. It had only been three days, right? 

Kenma reached for his phone to check the time, before realizing that it had died at some point. He let out another annoyed sigh, thinking of the lecture he’d get from Kuroo when it charged. 

He reached on the ground, fingers grasping the charging cord. He plugged the phone in and watched as the battery sign lit up, signaling that it was beginning to charge. 

Taking in another deep breath, kenma rubber his eyes. Maybe he should take a nap while the phone was charging. At least then he could tell Kuroo that he had been sleeping.

As he checked the phone again, hoping to see it power on, a flash of lightning filled the room, immediately followed by the sound of an exploding transform. 

Kenma loud out a loud scream, both caused by the loud noise, as well as the sudden pitch black that overtook the room.

He took in several panicked breaths before he turned his head to glance out the window. It seemed everyone on the block was without power. 

He was about to let out another frustrated sound when another flash of lightning filled the room, illuminating the apartment. His breath caught in his throat as he realized he wasn’t alone. Someone wwe definitely in the corner.

How had he missed that? How had he sat there for minutes without realizing the person was there? He knew it was a lamp or any decor. They didn’t put anything in that corner because nothing fit next to the entertainment system.

Panic set in as he reached forward, hand groping across the table until his fingers wrapped around the handle of the Butcher’s knife. He slowly stood, hands shaking as he backed out of the room, both happy and terrified at the prospect that no lightning meant the person couldn’t see him, however, it also meant that he couldn’t see them.

Tears slowly began to leak out of his eyes as he quietly backed away. His options were limited. He couldn’t rush for the door, that would put him directly in the strangers path. His phone was completely dead. His only option was to make his way to the bedroom and barricade himself in. 

Taking in a panicked breath, Kenma was almost glad as he reached the hall that led down to the bedroom. He was home free. 

That was until another flash illuminated the room, showing that the person was charging their way across the room, directly towards kenma. 

The young man let out a horrific scream as he turned around and bolted directly into the bedroom, quickly working to slam the door shut and twist the lock. 

“Gonna get you.”

Kenma choked on a sob. He didn’t know how he got into this situation. Had this person just randomly broken in while he was in the bathroom? How hadn’t he heard anything?

There was quiet on the other side of the door, but Kenma didn’t waste any time pushing the dresser in front of the door, creating a barricade. 

He frantically looked around the room, trying to think of his options. His breathing was erratic and he knew he was mid panic attack. Without second guessing himself, Kenma ran to the closet.

He climbed into the space, throwing the pile of clothes that lived on the floor over himself. He was shaking in fear, fingers clutching the knife. He tried to calm his breathing, trying to hear anything outside the bedroom door. 

All he could hear was the storm that began to rage outside. 

He stayed frozen on the closet floor, shaking like a leaf as he tried to gain his composure. 

He started to lose track of time again. 

Had it been an hour? Just a few minutes? Three hours?

He had no idea, but he didn’t move from under the pile of clothes, hands still gripping the knife so hard his fingers began to ache. 

After what felt like days, Kenma finally heard a sound.

His breath caught in his throat as he tried to focus his ears to make out what the sound was. There was jingling. Chains? A shuffle. Then a loud jiggle of the door knob to the bedroom.

A deep sigh was heard on the other side of the door and then a loud thump. Kenma’s breathing began to pick up again, the panic setting in once again. 

The door knob continued to jiggle for a few minutes and then he heard the telltale sign of the door opening a few centimeters only to be met with the wooden frame of the dresser.

A few muffled expletives were all he could make out before the person rammed into the door, causing the dresser to move a few inches. Kenma’s blood ran cold as he realized the barricade would only last a couple of more shoves. 

More tears leaked out of his black rimmed eyes as he thought over his choices once again. He could stay hidden under the clothes and hope the person didn’t search too hard. That was almost immediately ruled out as he heard another shiver against the door and dresser. Anyone going through that much trouble wouldn’t leave the room unturned. 

He took in a steadying breath and uncovered himself, trying to get his limbs to wake up. It was still dark out, he could tell just by peeking under the door or the closet. He could try to run past the person.

But then he remembered how frantically the person had chased him into the bedroom. There was no way he could outrun them out of the apartment and down the many flights of stairs. 

He wiped the snot from his nose and steeled himself as he realized there really was only one option. Kenma realized he was going to have to fight his way out of the apartment. 

He stood up, stretching out his limbs and tightening his grip on the knife. He would charge out of the closet the moment the bedroom door was fully open and he’d attack the attacker first. 

He wasn’t confident at all, but with each slam against the door, Kenma realized it was, quite literally, do or die. 

“Come on!” A frustrated growl yelled as it kicked at the door more. The panic set in again for Kenma as he heard a voice with real words on the other side of the door.

His own hand gripped the closet door knob. He was ready to jump into action. Panic or not.

He heard one final push on the door, where the dresser was finally shoved to the side and the bedroom door was opened. A whoop of excitement was heard, right as Kenma pushed his own way out of the closet. 

Kenma squeezed his eyes shut and slashed out with the knife, aiming for anywhere in front of him that might connect with soft flesh. He could tell he got a few slashes in, so he opened his eyes trying to gauge where to hit the attacker next.

Screams of terror could be heard from the other person as the knife continued to glance off of their arms which they had raised instinctively to protect their face. 

Kenma noted the way the grey shirt was left exposed towards the persons belly and he ducked down, burying the knife into the person’s abdomen. A sickening squelch filled the room as he pulled the knife back and jabbed forward again for a second good stab.

The person staggered back into the hall and stumbled backwards to the bathroom, cries of pain clear in the quiet, dark apartment. 

Kenma breathed heavily for a second before dropping the knife and dashing through the hall, ignoring the bathroom altogether, only focusing on making his way to the door.

“W-Why?” The voice cried out, sobs cracking the person’s voice. “Kenma, why?”

Suddenly, it felt like Kenma had been doused in cold water. He froze where he was, hand nearly reaching for the lock on the apartment.

No. No no no.

The cries of anguish could be heard from the bathroom. And though it wasn’t exactly a tone he was used to hearing, Kenma could recognize Kuroo’s voice anywhere.

“K-Kuro?” He asked, tears welling in his eyes as panic began to constrict his throat. This couldn’t be happening. This had to be in his head. 

“H-he-lp.” 

Kenma turned around, his body feeling heavy as he made his way back to the bathroom. 

He slowly turned the corner, eyes adjusting to the dark as he took in the scene. The knife was laying right outside the bathroom door, dark spots of blood all across the floor, leading to the body slumped beside the toilet, back against the tub.

A flash of lightning let just enough light into the tiny bathroom for Kenma to make out the mop of black hair and the red Nekoma sweatpants Kuroo insisted on wearing even today. 

“No! No no no no…” Kenma felt his cold blood course through his veins as he stepped towards Kuroo, his childhood best friend turned boyfriend. He fell to his knees beside him, hands reaching automatically to cover the stab wounds in Kuroo’s stomach. 

“I-I thought you were someone else. There was someone in the apartment before.” The words tumbled out of Kenma’s lips, feeling like weak excuses even to him. He choked on a sob, realizing what he’d done.

“Th-at doesn’t even… it doesn’t make sense.” Kuroo’s eyes were squeezed shut, the cold rushing over him suddenly. “The door was locked.”

Kenma whimpered, his hands pressing down, trying to stop the blood. “N-no. There was?” His words didn’t even sound sure to him. He was questioning reality still. But there was no doubting that Kuroo was here on their bathroom floor, bleeding out because of him. That was real.

“S’fine. Doesn’t even… it doesn’t hurt.” Kuroo’s words were slurred and he was finding it hard to breathe. “S’cold though, K’nma.”

Kenma choked on another sob, the tears coming down his face in heavy droplets. “It’s okay. You’re okay, Kuro. I just. I need to call emergency services. Where’s your phone?” He was trying to keep it together, but even he knew things were bad. 

“Hnn. Died on the train,” came the mumbled reply from Kuroo. 

Kenma sobbed openly, his head leaning forward enough to press against Kuroo’s. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, leaning up to press a soft kiss to Kuroo’s cooling lips, ignoring the blood that came away on his own lips. 

“Not ‘ad.” It came out more like an exhale, the words nearly one as Kuroo’s energy was sapped from him, leaving him unable to speak properly. 

Kenma moved his hands to grip Kuroo’s face, trying to make him keep his eyes open. “No no no no! HELP! Please! Someone help?!” He screamed, the words shredding his vocal chords as he yelled at the top of his lungs. 

But it was too late. He had killed his own boyfriend. His loving unselfish boyfriend who had used his last words to let Kenma know that he wasn’t to blame. Kuroo has tried to comfort Kenma, even in his own death. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this. I know it’s a lot longer than the other works I’ve posted so far. But I just kept writing and writing. 
> 
> This made me cry a little as I wrote it, so I’m very proud. 
> 
> Feel free to follow me on Twitter @fionanotjuliet


	4. Praying To Old Gods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Futakuchi Kenji has woken to find himself in a hairy situation with Goshiki Tsutomu. Is Goshiki a friend or foe? Futakuchi doesn’t have much choice but to trust him since they’re the only two that can help each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 prompt: Human shield 
> 
> Triggers: kidnapping, drugging, arrows, blood, ritual sacrifice, major character death
> 
> Sorry for this late prompt addition! I hope the length helps to make up for it

Eyes shot open and Futakuchi sat up immediately, realizing he was suddenly conscious. He didn’t remember ever becoming unconscious. 

His brows furrowed, he looked around the cave-like Area, trying to make out his surroundings, but realizing it was much too dark, save for the barest glimmer of light in the distance. 

Long fingers smoothed over the bumpy, cool surface beneath him, causing the realization that he was on stone. It was decently warm, leaving small puddles of water around him, due to the condensation. 

As his fingers hit another curved surface, he followed up, realizing this made the wall. It wasn’t a cave-like area that he was in, it was an actual cave. 

Next to him, the Datekou player heard a groan and he shuffled away from the sound, his hand clasping over his own mouth to stifle any sounds or heavy breathing that might give his position away.

Bracing himself against the wall, Futakuchi narrowed his eyes, trying to see any silhouette in the darkness, hoping the light from the entrance would let him have any clues to the other person’s identity.

There was a quiet sniffle and the sound of some fabric rustling, likely the person wiping the tears and snot away. 

“H-hello?” The voice called out, clearly having less survival instincts than Futakuchi, who closed his own eyes as if the new darkness would help him to make out who the person’s voice belonged to.

“I-is someone there? Any-body?” The voice asked, clearly cracking out of fear. 

Futakuchi chewed on his bottom lip, trying to weigh his pros and cons of answering. On the one hand, the voice sounded fairly harmless, belonging to another teenager like himself. But on the other hand, that could be exactly what the kidnappers were hoping for. 

A sob echoed in the cave, tugging on Futakuchi’s heart strings in spite of himself. Sighing, Futakuchi lulled his head back against the cave wall, deciding that he might as well act as if he had just woken up.

“What’s all that crying?” He asked, glad for the fact that he hadn’t spoken before hand, since his voice still sounded appropriately crackly. 

A gasp could be heard, followed by the shuffling sounds of someone backing away from him. Maybe this stranger does have some common sense, after all. 

“Who are you?!” They yelled, seemingly hoping to intimidate Futakuchi.

“Who are you?” 

There was a pause, followed by an exasperated sigh. “I asked you first!”

A small smirk curled across Futakuchi’s lips, enjoying the pettiness of the conversation. “I asked you second.”

A frustrated groan could be heard, causing Futakuchi to bark a laugh. “My name is Goshiki! Oh my god.”

Goshiki. That name sounded familiar. Something on the tip of his tongue. “My name is Futakuchi. Futakuchi Kenji.” 

“From Datekou!” 

He shouldn’t have been surprised the person knew his name, but it still caught him off guard, making him wary of the next interactions. 

“How the hell did you know that?” It came out angry, a sneer on his lips, his distrust clear.

Goshiki got quiet for a moment. “I’m from Shiratorizawa. I know Koganegawa,” came the soft reply. 

Oh. Futakuchi felt like an idiot. No wonder the name was familiar. Of course he’d watched the games and seen Goshiki play for Shiratorizawa. And he remembered Koganegawa mentioning the first year wing spiker. 

“Oh. Shit. Of course. I’m an idiot.” It was the closest to an apology he was going to give the kid. 

Goshiki hummed and scooted closer to Futakuchi, likely trying to get a better look at him. “Do you know why we’re here?” 

He couldn’t help the snort that came out, it really was a ridiculous question. “Like in this cave? Or on this planet?”

“You know what I meant! In this cave, obviously! I sure as hell don’t remember going to sleep here.”

“Yeah, I’m going to guess that’s because we were drugged. At least, that’s what it feels like.” Futakuchi rubbed his temples, still feeling the dull ache in his skull every time he spoke or moved. 

There was more movement, before there was the feeling of someone settling on his right, presumably Goshiki. “Oh. I guess that makes sense. I’m feeling nauseous.”

Futakuchi hummed, letting his head rest against the rock wall. “Yeah. Makes sense.”

“I think it’s still the middle of the night.”

He rolled his eyes a little at the obvious statement, but otherwise held back any snide comments. “Yep. Probably best we wait right here until morning. We have no idea what’s beyond this area. We don’t even know if that cave entrance leads to a dead drop.”

A shiver traveled through Goshiki as he thought about stumbling blindly in the dark. “Fair point,” he said, voice rising slightly out of fear. “B-But… we also don’t know what’s waiting for us in here.”

Futakuchi reached over, gently patting what he assumed was the first years thigh. “No worries. If anything was going to get us, they probably would have done that ages ago when you were crying so loudly.”

“You’re so rude!” Goshiki yelled, pushing Futakuchi to the side, earning a laugh from the second year. “Crying is a normal reaction when you’re scared and have clearly been kidnapped! You’re the weird one in this situation.”

The laughter pestered off and Futakuchi sighed. “Trust me. I’m just as confused and scared as you. But there’s no sense in working ourselves up.”

And just like that, the atmosphere changed. They knew they were in a serious situation, but Futakuchi managing to keep a cool head on his shoulders helped to calm the first year, making it easier for the two to communicate. 

“I think when it’s light enough, we should leave the cave. Whoever put us here, knows where to find us, so we don’t want to stay out here like in normal search and rescue,” Futakuchi said, offering the ideas to Goshiki, ready to take some of his input, as well.

He was answered with a nod, which he was just barely able to see. “I don’t want to stay anywhere some weirdos might come back to. Also… we need water.”

So, the two volleyball players worked together to formulate some semblance of a plan. The moment they could see further than a couple of inches in front of their face, they would head out of the cave. They’d work together to find the safest route out and then would look for water they could hopefully drink or follow to safety.

But plans made in the dead of night without all of the information were doomed to fail.

After several hours of discussion, the two dozed off, their heads nearly knocking together a few times as they tried to get comfortable in their sleep. 

It was actually Goshiki, this time, who woke up first. He rubbed his eyes, noting the light flood the entrance of the cave, before they wandered the rock wall across from him. He took one look and reached out to shake Futakuchi furiously. 

“G’up! G’up!” His worse were slurred together by a mixture of sleep and fear. 

“What the hell?” Futakuchi asked, before turning to glare at Goshiki. The glare immediately cleared the moment his eyes followed the way Goshiki’s finger was pointing at the wall.

Right across from them in bold red words:

“Run! You have 1 hour. Then we hunt!”

Futakuchi blinked and reread the words. “What the fuck,” was the only comment he was really able to formulate. 

“W-What does hunt mean?” Goshiki asked, trying to keep his voice and breaths even.

There was a sinking in his stomach as Futakuchi thought the possibilities over. This was far too elaborate for some high school prank, a thought he had hoped for all last night. The only real possibility was that they had been kidnapped by legitimate killers who were planning to chase them down and kill them.

“I don’t know. But I feel like we don’t want to stick around and find out. You good with abandoning the plan and just making a mad dash to any signs of civilization?”

Goshiki nodded, moving to stand before stopping and realizing that any taller and he’d hit his head. “I think we’re going to have to half crawl out.”

“Yeah. I’ll go first, okay? Let me make sure it’s safe. We don’t know how they’re counting the hour,” Futakuchi said, surprisingly himself with his bravery. 

They slowly made their way to the cave entrance where Futakuchi crawled out and stood to his whole height. He looked around the wooded area, quickly taking in the scenery and trying to determine the best way out. 

After he determines that no crazed humans were directly outside the cave, Futakuchi waved his hand, urging Goshiki to leave the false safety of the cave.

“Which way should we go?” Goshiki asked, stretching his limbs in the open area just outside of the cave. 

Heart pumping in his chest, Futakuchi surveyed the forest, again. He realized that Goshiki was placing his trust in him, so he couldn’t screw this up. 

“Let’s move… forward. Yeah. I mean you can’t go wrong with that,” he said, making a movement to walk forward, hoping it was the right choice. 

“Yeah. Okay,” Goshiki said, following him without a second thought. The trust was clear and nearly overwhelmed Futakuchi. 

“We have an hour. Maybe less? We should move as quickly as possible. But not recklessly. We don’t need any broken bones,” the second year said, decisively marching his way through the forest, hoping to find their way out. 

They made their way through the greenery, only moving in a straight line if they could, dreading the idea that they might accidentally go in a circle that would lead them back to where they came from.

It was so quiet in the forest that Futakuchi felt constantly on edge. Any slight creak, even right from under their own feet, would make them jump. 

There was no real way to tell time, but after a while, Futakuchi began to feel the nerves kick up in his stomach. Surely they had been out past an hour. Was it just a really elaborate prank from one of their schools or some mutual friend wanting to fuck with them?

However, his unspoken questions were answered as he heard something whizz past his ear and shatter on the tree in front of him. Without thinking, Futakuchi grabbed Goshiki’s hand and made a mad dash away from the area. 

The whizzing sound continued, the weapons speeding their way past the duo, sometimes forcing them to make sharp turns just behind trees to narrowly avoid whatever was being used against them. 

When the projectiles seemed to slow down, Futakuchi pulled them both behind a wide tree, closing his eyes as he rested against the massive trunk and tried to catch his breath. 

A quiet sob broke his concentration, causing his eyes to fly open and finally look at Goshiki. To his horror, there was an arrow sticking directly through the younger boys right shoulder. 

“Holy shit!” It was hissed out, Futakuchi too afraid to make a louder noise. “Go, are you okay?” 

It was a stupid question, but to Goshiki’s credit he just sucked in a breath, clearly trying to stop the sobs from the pain. “It-It’s not so-o bad.”

Futakuchi helped the younger boy sit on a large root of the tree, so he could rest and the Datekou captain could assess the damage. Taking in a breath, Futakuchi peeled back the fabric around the wound surrounding the area the arrow had entered.

Swallowing thickly, Futakuchi noted how the wound was bleeding pretty badly, but not nearly as bad as it should have been. He lightly touched the arrow, brows furrowing as he realized it was handmade with wood and maroon-purple colored feathers. 

“C-can you pull it out?” Goshiki asked, sniffling as he glanced back over his left shoulder. 

Futakuchi took a steadying breath, trying to school the look of shock on his face. It had to be a coincidence that the arrows colors were Shiratorizawa colors. Right? 

He was losing it. 

The moment of suspicion left him almost as fast it came. Goshiki was hurt. Why would his own people hurt him?

Futakuchi looked at the exit wound, glad to see the top of the arrow was almost perfectly sharpened, but didn’t have any sharp edges that could shred skin. He nodded, suddenly realizing he hadn’t answered Goshiki’s question. 

“I think I can. Yeah. But. I think the arrow is stopping most of the blood. It’s like the first rule of first aid, right? leave the stabby thing inside Incase it’s stopping any worse bleeding?” 

Goshiki whimpered, causing Futakuchi a moment of guilt for ever doubting the younger boy. “But it hurts. And I can’t run.” 

Futakuchi bit his bottom lip before reaching down to try and tear his shirt at the seams, making bandages in the process. “Okay. But we have to be quick. And you have to be quiet.”

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Futakuchi knew this was where everything was going to go wrong. But he just couldn’t stand the pain on Goshiki’s face. He had to try and help. 

Without even a moment for Goshiki to second guess, Futakuchi gripped the arrow and pulled it from the first years shoulder. 

The scream was inevitable, but Futakuchi only allowed himself a sigh of resignation before he began wrapping the wound haphazardly. 

“I know it hurts, but the moment we’re done. We have to move, again. They had to have heard that scream,” he said, words coming out in a rush as he tied the bandages tightly.

“They already know where we are,” came Goshiki’s quiet, reluctant response. The tears were still streaming down his face, but it didn’t seem like it was from pain anymore. 

Futakuchi looked down at Goshiki, then down at the arrow he’d thrown to the side. He felt a tear leave his eye as he nodded and sniffed. 

“Doesn’t mean we can’t still run.” It was a weak response even to his own ears, but he wasn’t about to back down without some sort of fight.

Goshiki looked up at him, regret clear in his eyes. “Don’t you get it? I… I’m with them.”

His response was a simple jerky nod. “But you don’t want to be. Right?”

Another sob could be heard from Goshiki. Futakuchi sighed, placing a hand on the worked up first years head. “So we run. Pull yourself together.”

“You don’t get it!” The frustrated yell pulled Futakuchi from his thoughts, his hand shrinking away from the younger boy. “They used me to gain your trust. And they bearded you here. To this tree.”

Goshiki angrily wiped at his eyes. “Look at the other side,” he said, standing up and grabbing Futakuchi’s hand, practically dragging him around the tree. At the base of the tree was a long flat rock, old symbols carved into it. 

What was most notable was the human skull, seemingly brushed to the side, free for all to view. 

Futakuchi’s blood ran cold as he realized what it looked like. 

“They want to sacrifice you.” The way he said it sounded so bitter and frustrated. 

“Why?” It didn’t really matter, but Futakuchi’s curiosity had always gotten the best of him. 

“Because we stopped, a long time ago, thinking we didn’t need such primitive measures anymore. But this year we were proven incorrect.”

Futakuchi gasped at the new voice, spinning around to come face to face with the Shiratorizawa coach, Washijou. 

The Datekou players face screwed up in anger as realization dawned on him. “You fucking sacrifice people because you lost a stupid volleyball game?!” 

Logically, he knew that yelling wouldn’t do anything but put him in deeper water, but the anger had welled up so suddenly, he couldn’t just hold it back. 

“Not just volleyball. This is for the school as a whole. We have traditions to uphold and they have been slowly failing. Now, we take our sacrifice.”

Before Futakuchi could even take in what was happening, several archers revealed themselves, having hidden behind nearby trees. Their bows were raised and arrows nocked, clearly aiming for Futakuchi. 

He couldn’t even take a breath before the arrows flew and his arms raised out of instinct to cover himself. However, no arrows hit him.

Opening his eyes, Futakuchi took in a sharp breath, realizing that Goshiki had stepped in front of him, taking each arrow. The first year fell to his knees, clearly dead before his head hit the ground. 

Everyone stopped to stare in shock, surprised that the young boy would sacrifice himself for Futakuchi. 

No one was more surprised than Futakuchi. They hadn’t even known each other for ten hours, he guessed. Goshiki has been used as a pawn to lure him to this place. It didn’t make sense for him to sacrifice himself. 

Tears fell down his cheeks, pooling at the bottom of his chin before dripping messily onto Goshiki’s body. “S-stupid,” he muttered, eyes staying focused on Goshiki’s face, not wanting to take view of the young boys ruined body. 

He knew he should have been running, taking the free time that Goshiki had bought him, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the boy. 

“I hope your sacrifice was worth it,” Futakuchi snarled, anger replacing the sorrow. “He didn’t even want to help you! You forced him into this!”

Futakuchi made a move to step towards the Shiratorizawa coach without thinking. 

He didn’t even hear the arrow before it had found its way into his throat. 

Hands made their way to the throat, a wet, wheeze left his mouth as he realized he couldn’t breathe through his own blood filling his throat. 

Futakuchi fell to his knees beside Goshiki, realizing the boys sacrifice was completely in vain and feeling an overwhelming sadness fill him. 

He wanted to curse the coach and the school, but all he could think of was how sad he was that he didn’t have longer to know Goshiki. That he didn’t have a chance to even thank him for trying to save his life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the biggest of plot twists, but still a bitter sweet end, i’d say.


	5. Even In Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 Prompt: Gunpoint
> 
> Poll voted: Kyoutani
> 
> Kyoutani and Yahaba have been living through the zombie apocalypse together. Unfortunately, their worst fears are about to be realized.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: zombies, blood, violence, mutilation, body horror, guns, gunshots, dehumanization, character death

The sound of chains rattling on the floor wasn’t anything new to Yahaba. At this point, it was almost a comforting sound. Much easier to focus on than the growling and moaning from outside wherever he had managed to find a place to hide. 

But tonight, the chains were rattling a little more than usual. Never a good sign.

“Kyou,” he whispered, trying to get the others attention. 

He was used to not receiving a verbal response by now, but he at least liked to have the other turn and face him.

“Kyoutani!” He whispered, a little more harshly, leg kicking out to strike Kyoutani’s own leg. 

That got the Mad Dog’s attention, causing him to abandon the area he was so adamantly pacing, something clearly irritating him. He spun around to face Yahaba, something akin to a high pitched whine leaving his throat.

Yahaba’s heart clenched as he took in the stark difference of Kyoutani’s face. It had been months, but it never got easier for him to see his former boyfriend’s eyes empty, his broken jaw hanging loosely. 

He could remember it clearly when it happened, nearly relived it every single night since. 

—

They had been on a supply run for the first time in a few weeks. Yahaba had still been getting used to killing zombies, part of him still seeing the human in each of them. It had been the largest point of contention between him and Kyoutani, who had vehemently insisted that they were shells of their former selves, that they would think them for putting them out of their misery. 

They had been in the cafeteria of Aoba Johsai, hoping they could grab some industrial sized servings of food. Kyoutani had been in the back, stuffing the wagon they’d stolen months ago, while Yahaba stayed in the front keeping watch. 

He’d turned for merely a few seconds to ask Kyoutani how long he would be, but the moment he turned around, a zombie was charging him, knocking him to the ground.

“Kyou!” Yahaba has cried out, his steel pipe pressing against the zombies throat, just managing to stop the rotting corpse from sinking his teeth into yahaba’s shoulder. 

Kyoutani had vaulted over the serving tables and dashed to Yahaba’s side in seconds, but it was enough for the zombie to gnash it’s teeth closer to Yahaba. Without thinking, Kyoutani jammed his denim covered forearm into the zombies mouth, preventing it from sinking its teeth into Yahaba. 

He had roared angrily and used his forearm to push the zombie away from Yahaba. He reached behind him for the screwdriver he kept in the loops of his jeans, before slamming it right into the zombies eye, immediately taking all fight from the corpse.

Yahaba had scrambled up, slipping on rotting flesh as he made his way to Kyoutani. He grabbed the boy’s left forearm and rolled the denim up to survey the damage. His heart sank the moment he saw the clear impressions of teeth in the light tan skin. 

“No. No no no no.” Yahaba used his own sleeve to wipe away the blood, desperately hoping that it had just been the zombies blood, but knowing the vibrant color meant it was fresh. 

“Yahaba. Stop,” Kyoutani said, jaw clenched, trying to stop his own tears. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Kyou.” Yahaba’s tears had come in a hot wave, streaming down his dirty face. 

“Shigeru…” Kyoutani sighed, reaching out with his right hand and cupping Yahaba’s face. “Let’s just get the stuff and go home.”

Yahaba sniffled, but nodded, leaning into the touch. “Yeah. Okay.” They both knew they were on borrowed time. Twenty four hours from now, Kyoutani would die and come back as one of them. 

They grabbed the rest of the food, a last act of love from Kyoutani, before making their way home to the train station where they’d holed up in the concrete walls.

Kyoutani had sat on the futon they’d shared and looked down at the open wound, noting how it was already festering, dark red lines moving up his arm like some horrific form of cat scratch fever. 

Yahaba sank to his knees in front of Kyoutani, hands working to clean the wound before bandaging it. He held back his tears as he looked up at the boy he’d fallen in love with. But the realization that he would soon be without that love and that it had been his fault, led to Yahaba dissolving into puddle. 

Gentle hands made their way through Yahaba’s hair, leading him to look up at Kyoutani, again. The other boy had swallowed thickly, before leaning down to press a kiss to Yahaba’s lips. 

“You have plenty of food. They don’t come down here often. When you run out… swallow your pride and join The Shiratorizawa survivors. You’re smart, Shigeru. I know you know that’s for the best.”

Yahaba grabbed Kyoutani’s face, staring at it before kissing him deeply, ignoring the tears that he felt wet against his boyfriend’s cheeks. 

“I don’t want you to go.” He knew it was the wrong thing to say. Kyoutani wasn’t choosing to leave him. He’d sacrificed himself for Yahaba, but here he was making Kyoutani feel bad for dying. 

“I have to,” came the broken reply, Kyoutani’s voice cracking with emotions he usually didn’t allow himself to feel. “I love you, Shigeru.”

He sucked in a sharp breath at the words, hating that this was how he first heard them. They’d carefully avoided saying the words, knowing that this type of situation was inevitable and that knowing with no uncertainties that they were in love would cause more pain. 

“I love you, too, Kentarou.” 

They both sniffled, trying to stop the tears, before saying fuck it and leaning in to passionately kiss each other. Knowing that each one was potentially their last.

After a few hours, Yahaba passed out, falling asleep once more in Kyoutani’s arms. 

He woke as he heard the sound of the barrier being moved from in front of the door. He sat up quickly, eyes adjusting to the dark easily, used to living in it by now. 

“No!” He yelled without thinking, realizing that Kyoutani was trying to leave him already.

The other boy turned quickly, covering Yahaba’s mouth with his right hand, the left arm hanging uselessly now. “Yahaba. I’m doing this for you. We both know you can’t take me out. I’m already dying.”

Yahaba grabbed the hand, uncovering his mouth swiftly. “I-I can!” The lie sounded weak in his own ears. They both knew that Kyoutani was right. 

“Yahaba. Please? Don’t make this harder?” His voice was strained, clearly affected and trying not to show it.

The other boy sniffled, his eyes refusing to look at Kyoutani. As his eyes drifted, they landed on the chains they had found, but never knew what to use them for. Suddenly, he had an idea.

“I can chain you up. In the room in the back. You won’t be able to hurt me.” He could tell from the exasperated look on Kyoutani’s face that he wasn’t buying into the idea. 

“Those things can be strong, Yahaba. You don’t think I’m going to end up being one of the strong ones?”

A fierce look settled on Yahaba as he stared at Kyoutani defiantly. “We’ll double chain you! it’ll be so tight on your throat that you won’t be able to tear it apart without tearing yourself apart. This could work!”

He didn’t know if it was the fact that his brain was already slowly rotting away, or just the fact that he knew either way Yahaba was going to be hurt, but Kyoutani gave a reluctant sigh. “The first sign of trouble, you use that metal pipe to bash my skull in. Or I’ll never forgive you.” 

Yahaba nodded, wrapping his arms around Kyoutani in a tight hug, making note of the way that his scent had already begun to sour, smelling of death. “I promise. I just… not right now.”

So, they had made their way to the back of the area, Yahaba dragging the chains behind him. His heart ached as he fastened the chains around Kyoutani’s neck, hating the irony of the name Mad Dog. 

Kyoutani gasped a little, body slumping back against the wall as he tried to get used to the weight of the chains and the way his lungs seemed to refuse to take in as much air as usual. The decay was setting in and his time was getting shorter.

Once Yahaba had fastened the chains to the floor, he moved to sit in the doorway, eyes quietly watching as Kyoutani’s breathing became even more labored. His heart stuttered as he considered the fact that he might just be causing Kyoutani’s death prematurely.

“St-stop, Shigeru. I know you’re over thinking.” The voice was weak, but clear as anything to Yahaba. 

“I’m just…” Yahaba bit his bottom lip, not wanting to finish the sentence, but knowing that he had to. “I’m scared. I don’t know how to do this without you.”

“You’re strong. Str-strong than me most days,” Kyoutani said, nearly gasping for breath half way through. “And I’ll still be here.” He gave a rueful smile, indicating the chains.

There was another sniffle, before Yahaba nodded. “I’m sorry, Kentarou.”

Kyoutani shrugged, realizing his time was short. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, or even focus. “I don’t… blame you.” The words came out stilted, quiet as he leaned his head back, unable to keep it up.

Yahaba let out a quiet sob. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to him that Kyoutani was using his last breaths to help him, but it still hurt and tasted bitter sweet. He dried his eyes after a moment, before realizing that he wasn’t hearing the labored breathing anymore.

“Kyou?” He asked, voice quiet as he scrambled to stand up so he could get a better view of the boy. Every single part of Yahaba was screaming at him to rush forward and shake Kyoutani awake, but he knew that was a mistake, since the dead typically reanimated within a few minutes. 

He held himself up by hugging the door frame, tears silently leaking down his face, blurring his vision. Although his tears were silent, his heart was hammering in his ears, making it hard for him to concentrate. This made it hard for him to notice the twitching fingers on Kyoutani’s hands, followed by the rattling chains as the body moved to stand. 

He didn’t realize the body had reanimated until it was running at him, hands nearly reaching him, before the chains jerked him back, causing him to fall to the ground. 

Yahaba screamed, falling to the ground and scrambling back into the hallway, his fingers furiously wiping the tears from his eyes so he could keep an eye on Kyoutani. 

The corpse growled, the hunger already set in as it smelled the fresh meat mere meters away. It crawled, trying to break the chains at its neck.

After a minute of struggling, the body turned it attention to the chain behind it, hands yanking at the links, trying to pull them apart. 

Yahaba sobbed, watching in terror as his boyfriend viciously tried to free himself from the bindings, trying to make his way to eat him alive.

His fingers wrapped around the steel pipe as he tried to slowly make his way to a standing position. In the time that he did that, however, Kyoutani had broken free from the chains and rushed to Yahaba. 

With a terrified scream, Yahaba raised the pipe, moving it to block Kyoutani from chomping down on his flesh. The part of him that loved irony had found great amusement in the fact that this was exactly how the other zombie had nearly killed him, before Kyoutani rescued him. 

“Kyou! Please?!” He didn’t know why he was begging, what he thought that would accomplish. It had been proven time and again that corpses were no longer themselves after death. 

“Kentarou! it’s me!” Yahaba screamed, tears falling down his cheeks as Kyoutani tried to mash down on the steel pipe. Yahaba used that moment to kick the corpse away, just before pulling back on the pipe and hitting Kyoutani’s head with it. 

The movement ceased and Yahaba’s breath caught in his throat as he looked down at the corpse whose hands were clenched into fists. 

Shaking, he knelt down, trying to see if he had actually killed Kyoutani. His eyes stared straight into Kyoutani’s own, clearly still alive in a sense. He watched as the jaw clenched, seemingly struggling with himself on whether to eat Yahaba or let him live. 

“K-Kyou, please.” He didn’t know what he was begging for, but it was either the way he said Kyoutani’s name or the crack in his voice, that seemed to signal some change in the corpse. 

Kyoutani sat up quickly, startling Yahaba who fell back onto his butt and dropped the steel pipe. The corpse looked down at the boy and opened its mouth in a horrific scream, before being its hands up to its own jaw and pulling down until there was a sickening crack and the jaw was left dangling, only held together held in place by the flesh.

Yahaba watched all of this, feeling bile rise in his throat, but being unable to look away. Once the mutilation was down, Yahaba sucked in some air, before immediately vomiting to the side, the crack still playing in his ears. 

As he wiped his mouth, he looked back over to Kyoutani, realizing that the corpse was no longer attacking him. It just sat there, jaw hanging loose, a testament to how much Kyoutani had wanted to protect Yahaba. 

The boy stood up slowly, hands shaking as he moved closer to Kyoutani. “K-Kyou?” He felt so stupid for talking to a zombie and expecting it to react. 

Except, it did. It whined and backed away from Yahaba.

He tilted his head, trying to figure out what exactly was happening. He took a step towards Kyoutani, watching as it backed away again. 

Yahaba knelt down and quickly grabbed the ends of the chains, glad suddenly that there was so much of it left. He grabbed an extra padlock and reconnected the chains, before moving away from Kyoutani, still unsure of how safe he was. 

The moment that the chains were reconnected, Kyoutani seemed to relax. It stopped backing away from Yahaba when he got close again. Not even when he hesitantly places a hand on the corpses head, feeling the cooling skin underneath, more proof that Kyoutani was truly gone.

It took weeks of trial and error, but eventually, Yahaba came to the conclusion that Kyoutani was still very much a zombie. That was made clear the first time he had ventured out, the corpse on its leash, and watched how animated Kyoutani had become when they were close to humans, again, clearly wanting to eat them. 

But though he was a zombie, Kyoutani was still himself in a way. He had broken his own jaw to keep Yahaba safe from himself. And any time a zombie got close to Yahaba when they were out, Kyoutani would go wild, tearing into the other corpses and insuring Yahaba’s safety. 

So, they reached a new routine where they would go out and scavenge during the day, before coming home. Once home, Yahaba would chain Kyoutani up in the room he slept in, making sure the chain was always short enough that if Kyoutani went feral again, he couldn’t reach Yahaba. 

It hurt, seeing Kyoutani like that, but it was their new normal. And Yahaba felt as safe with the zombie as he had with his boyfriend. 

—

And that’s what led them to this point, Kyoutani acting nervous and incidentally waking Yahaba up with the nervous pacing. 

Yahaba stood up and made his way to the zombie, hand reaching down to lightly pat the hair on his head. He’d learned the hard way that anything tougher would cause chunks of it to fall out, a harsh reminder that they were still on borrowed time.

“What has you pacing like this?” It was more a question for himself, since Kyoutani couldn’t really answer. The most the corpse could do was reach for the wall, nails scratching at the plaster.

“Stop that, Kentarou.” It wasn’t the sound that bothered him, but the way that the nails would lift up, threatening to fall off.

Another high pitched whine was the only response Yahaba received and he began to grow irritated.

“Yes! It’s zombies! We’ve been over this.” 

That’s how Yahaba tried to rationalize it, but the more he thought about it, the weirder the behavior seemed. Nerves began to crawl up his stomach as he grabbed the key to release the chains from the wall, leaving Kyoutani on a leash. 

He grabbed his steel pipe next, as well as the newer edition of a self made spear. Something wasn’t right and it was making Yahaba nervous. 

No sooner than he’s turned back to the barrier in front of the door, did Yahaba hear the telltale signs of someone or something trying to burst their way in. He turned to Kyoutani and noticed the feral way the zombie had knelt down, sniffing at the air.

“Fuck. Humans, then,” he muttered, not sure how to proceed. Zombies were simple, at least until Kyoutani, but humans never acted the same. He could call out and they might give up, deciding it wasn’t worth fighting for the hiding spot. Or, he could call out and that would make them more eager to get in.

He cringed as the door was rammed into, the weak barrier easily budging. He suddenly wished that he had built it up more, but realized that he had grown used to Kyoutani’s presence and knowing that the zombie would protect him from anyone or anything. 

“Cut it out! Finders keepers!” He yelled, hoping that it would make them back off.

For a moment, it seemed to work, before the sound of a man grunting and ramming into the door reached him. 

“I have a zombie! I’m not alone!” 

This did nothing to deter the other survivors. Before he knew it, they had barged their way in and slammed the door shut behind them. Kyoutani went wild, saliva running from his permanently open mouth. 

“Pfft. Some zombie,” said the blond survivor, as he eyed Kyoutani’s slack jaw. 

“Atsumu. Stop,” warned the darker haired man, a hand settling on Atsumu’s shoulder.

“No! He threatened us with a zombie when we’re surrounded by zombies and then tried to keep his little shelter to himself. I’m insulting the pet!”

Yahaba glowered at the two survivors, recognizing them as twins. “Maybe if you fucking announced yourselves then I wouldn’t have threatened you! Besides, you figured it out, he’s harmless to most humans now.”

The dark haired twin looked skeptical, keeping his distance from the growling and drooling zombie. 

Atsumu looked to his brother and rolled his eyes. “Osamu, please? It’s just his little pet. From the way it’s skins’s rotting, it probably couldn’t do much to us anyway.”

“Still don’t trust it. I’m not going to be able to sleep with a zombie here.”

“Who said you were sleeping anyway?! You’re not invited!” Yahaba yelled, losing his patience. 

The blond, Atsumu, pulled out a handgun and turned the safety off before turning it on Yahaba. “From the looks of it, you have a zombie and some short range weapons. We have guns.”

Yahaba flinched, his breath catching in his throat as he stepped back until he hit the wall. He tugged on Kyoutani’s changes anxiously, not even thinking. 

“O-okay. Fine. We’ll go,” Yahaba said, tightening his hold on the leash and getting Kyoutani to fall back. 

“No. You don’t have to go anywhere. I don’t mind humans.”

“Atsumu. Too far,” Osamu said, almost bored of the reactions from his brother. 

“No. You don’t want to sleep around the zombie, right? And this idiot clearly can’t put it down. I’m doing us all a favor.”

Yahaba’s shaking hands reached out to grip Kyoutani’s shoulder, trying to get the zombie to calm down. “Stop. Kentarou.”

The snarling increased, Kyoutani clearly reading the anxiety coming from Yahaba. He turned back to the new humans and charged forward, wrenching himself loose of Yahaba’s grip. 

“Shit!” Atsumu yelled before pulling the trigger, the shot ringing out in the small area.

Everyone froze as they watching Kyoutani stop and away, before falling over. 

Yahaba watched as his boyfriend’s body lay still on the floor, finally at peace. 

“No!” He yelled out, sobs already taking him over as he ran to Kyoutani. He fell to his knees, his hands reaching out to gently cradle the face of the boy he loved. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, eyes looking over the face, able to see past the rotting flesh and bullet wound in the forehead. In death, the true death, Yahaba could almost see the boy that he truly fell in love with. He gave a bittersweet smile before gently setting Kyoutani’s head down. 

“You went too far. You always do,” Osamu said, shaking his head at his brother before making his way further into the shelter. 

Atsumu stared at Yahaba and the corpse on the floor, realizing how deeply they were connected. “Sorry,” the blond muttered before following his brother and leaving the mourning Yahaba behind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I meant for this be to shorter, but it ended up being a 3.5k story. 
> 
> I want to be clear, Atsumu isn’t a villain here. He’s a survivor just like Yahaba. And yes he was an ass about it, but he did it to protect everyone involved. Yahaba logically knows that.
> 
> Follow me on Twitter @fionanotjuliet to participate in the polls where you can pick the character or ships involved in these stories.
> 
> Question: Does anyone have a specific character or ship they’d like to see?


	6. Savior and Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 6- Dragged Away
> 
> Everyone in the sea side town had been warned of the half men half fish creatures that lived in the sea. They said that stole your voice, before dragging you to your death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about this being late! Work was very busy and distracting!
> 
> Pairing: KurooDaishou 
> 
> Triggers: Monster, blood, drowning, beating eaten

The day had started like any other. He woke up, he got dressed, ate breakfast, then grabbed his things and made his way down to the marina. His life was simple, but Kuroo liked it like that. 

He put his lunch away in an airtight container, before climbing into the small fishing boat. He lifted the anchor and untied the rope, setting him free, able to go on his way, checking the fishing nets and crab traps. 

He hummed quietly to himself, enjoying the solitude of the open sea. He was never nervous about being out there alone, like many other fisherman from their area. He’d heard the stories of half fish people that swam and lived in this bay, but he never really paid it any heed. 

However, he was on the way to the next fishing net when he saw something big thrash inside the net, causing water splash decently high into the air. 

“Oh, great. A shark,” he muttered to himself, preparing to cut the dumb fish loose. 

The closer he got to the net, the more Kuroo began to realize that something wasn’t quite right with whatever this animal was. The scales were a vibrant green with yellow undertones that melded with something that looked eerily similar to light green skin.

Heart pounding in his chest, Kuroo leaned over the side of the boat, trying to catch sight of the bright green through the different dark colored fish species he was accustomed to catching. As he got closer to the water, a hand reached out, nearly touching his face. 

“Holy shit!” He yelled, quickly pulling himself away from the hand, sure that it was trying to pull him in. 

He clutched his heart and waited a moment, wanting to see if the hand would grasp the side of the boat or make any move. After several minutes had passed, he moved to the edge of the boat again, peering down into the water. 

His eyes met sad, green eyes that seemed to glow otherworldly in comparison to the light green skin. It was this moment that made Kuroo realize this was a sentient being, stuck within a nest of fish, likely drowning in the ammonia created by the fish. 

Leaning over the boat, Kuroo pulled out a knife and began sawing away at the different segments of the net. He knew it was going to be a pain to fix the netting, but it would be worth it to release this creature. 

The being seemed to know what he was doing, as it backed away, careful to avoid the sharp blades of the knife. 

Finally, Kuroo pulled back, the hole large enough for many of the fish to escape. Once the fish were free, he leaned back over the boat to haul the large creature out of the water and into the boat.

The fish man seemed scared at being outside of the water, fear creeping into its eyes as it searched for an escape. 

Kuroo leaned down, hoping to calm the creatures fears. “Hey. Hey. I have to get the net off of you.” He said it slowly, pulling on the edges of the net that was around the creature. 

“Calm down,” he said, trying to use his calmest voice, hoping that would help.

The creature tilted its head, but nodded after a moment. The way it looked had Kuroo wondering if the creature could understand him.

“Do you understand?” 

The creature stared another moment, before nodding. There seemed to be some delay in translation. It tugged on the netting. “Net. Off.”

The words were stilted, pronounced a little oddly, but Kuroo smiled and nodded. “Good job. Give me just a minute.”

With that instruction, he began cutting the netting fully away, finally pulling the ropes off, letting the creature free. 

The green fish man shook itself free, backing further away from the net. Its nose scrunched in distaste as it glanced at the rope again. 

Kuroo couldn’t help the laugh that he let free, seeing such a human emotion on the creatures face. The laughter only increased as the creature turned its ire to Kuroo, the green face clearly showing annoyance. 

“I’m sorry. Sorry,” he said, kneeling down so that he wasn’t towering over the creature. 

“Hmph,” was the only reply from the creature as it crossed its arms, the fins attached to the elbows folding in easily. It turned its head from Kuroo, chin tilted up in a haughty look. 

“You’re sassy, whatever you are,” he said, smiling cheerily, rather happy with the change in pace. 

The creature turned back to Kuroo, the pupils in its eyes narrowing into slits. “I have name,” it said, words slow, the translations clearly coming slowly.

Kuroo’s brows shot up in surprise. “Oh. I’m sorry. I guess that makes sense,” he said, nodding to himself. “I’m Kuroo. What’s your name.”

The creature licked its lips, a near fork like tongue darting out to wet them. “You would call me... Daishou.”

Kuroo hummed, thinking it over as he looked the fish man over. “Okay. Daishou. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Not nice way to meet you.” The words came quicker than the others. Daishou had clearly been thinking them over for a moment. 

“Ah. Okay, that’s fair. Sorry about the net.” Kuroo pulled the offending net away from the creature, watching as it relaxed.

Daishou gave a wary look at Kuroo before pulling them self closer to the fisherman. Kuroo stayed still, but something in the back of his head screamed at him not to let the creature too close. 

“I thank you,” Daishou said, giving a saccharine sweet smile to the fisherman, its eyes making contact with Kuroo’s own.

“Y-you don’t have to.” Kuroo blinked slowly, confused about what was happening. Everything around him seemed to be slowing.

The fish man continued to smile, its eyes glowing a softer green than it had in the net. Kuroo felt his heart pound in his chest, his instincts screaming at him to move. But the more he thought about running away, the less he was able to. 

“I can show you things,” Daishou said, tongue darting out to lick across its lips once again. “Many beautiful things.”

Kuroo struggled to take in a deep breath, suddenly realizing that he was only able to take fast, shallow breaths. He couldn’t look away from the creature, his eyes on able to look across the face, taking in the sharp, angular features and the bright green scales just scattered from the temples to the cheekbones.

A wet hand wrapped around Kuroo’s wrist, but he couldn’t look away from the face in front of him. He could just barely feel the webbing that stretched from the thumb to the pointer finger. He could easily make out the sharp claws the lightly scratched against his skin.

“I-I…” Kuroo wanted to deny Daishou’s offer, but found that his own voice was not cooperating. He could think of the words. But he couldn’t make them come out.

Was he so petrified that he couldn’t talk? No, that didn’t make sense. It was like his vocal cords weren’t working at all.

“The ocean has wonderful things to offer, Kuroo,” Daishou said, finally giving him a full smile that showed off razor sharp teeth.

Now Kuroo was scared. There was something odd about the way that Daishou continued to stare at him. The way that its words were now coming so easily. The too sweet smile that screamed danger. 

Kuroo tried taking in another breath. He tried to force some sound, any sound, through his paralyzed vocal cords, but found that they would only let out the barest of breathy squeaks. 

It was then that Kuroo realized he couldn’t move any part of his body. His eyes were now glued to Daishou’s illuminating green eyes. His fingers wouldn’t flex, no matter how much his mind screamed at him.

“We’ll have so much fun together, Kuroo. Just you and me. And the sea.” Daishou gave a twisted grin, the hand around Kuroo’s wrist tightening until the nails dug into the skin, slicing through the skin easily. 

Kuroo couldn’t even wince as he felt the pain, felt the blood dripping down his arm.

Before he could even make sense of it, Daishou crawled over the side of the boat, pulling Kuroo behind it. 

There was a moment of clarity between going over the side of the boat and the splash of the ocean. He took in a deep breath, realizing that he was able to move just a little now that he was free of the creatures gaze.

But it wasn’t long before Daishou gripped Kuroo’s chin with its free hand and forced him to stare back at the glowing green. 

“Oh no. Don’t get any ideas, Kuroo,” Daishou said, leaning in so its forked tongue could glide across the man's lips.

Kuroo wanted to recoil, but frustratingly realized he was paralyzed again. The frustration quickly gave way to fear as he realized the air in his lungs wouldn’t last much longer. 

“So handsome. It’s been so long since I’ve had a good man.” The words were taunting, as the creature flicked its tail, pulling Kuroo further and further under the depths. The only light that he could see this far down was Daishou’s glowing eyes. 

He wanted to cry or scream, but he knew that was fruitless. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t even close his eyes to escape the paralyzing gaze. 

The nails in his wrist dug in further, blood filling the space between them. Kuroo could only guess how bad it would feel to have the teeth tear into him.

His lungs burned, screaming for new air. But Kuroo knew there was no air for him to have that far into the deep.

Eyes glued to Daishou’s, he struggled to look away, to blink. Anything. 

The creature smirked, knowing that it was almost time for Kuroo to perish. “Humans always taste best right before death,” it said, before turning its gaze to stare at the blood flowing from the wrist. 

The moment Daishou looked away, Kuroo did the only thing he could. He took a breath. He gagged as he felt the sea water burn his lungs. 

It wasn’t the epic fight to the death that he would have preferred, but the look of annoyance on the creatures face was almost enough to make up for it. He felt himself drowning, the sea that had been his friend, now was his demise and savior. 

There was no more pain, as the Siren devoured his dead body. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll admit this isn’t the greatest work and isn’t necessarily what I wanted, but I enjoy the way the Siren came out.


	7. If You Had Asked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a freak dog attack, Aone knows that weird things have begun to happen to him. He keeps himself contained, hoping to avoid any trouble from these strange new symptoms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 7: Isolation
> 
> Triggers: dog attack, blood, body horror

Something wasn’t right. He knew that much. Things had felt off since the dog attack four weeks earlier.

He had been walking home from school after parting ways with Futakuchi, enjoying the sudden quiet, when he had felt watched. The feeling left him unnerved. Goosebumps covered his arms. 

Aone wasn’t usually one to feel scared of walking alone in the dark, but he suddenly wished he had taken Futakuchi’s offer of staying the night. 

Their practice had lasted longer than normal, everyone pumped to get as good as Karasuno after watching the former flightless crows at Nationals. 

So, now, Aone found himself walking alone through the cold darkness of a spring night, the yellow moon hung high in the sky. 

Any other time, he would have found solace in the quiet. He would have breathed in deep, taking in the sweet smells of the early bloomed petals.

But tonight, the silence kept him on edge. There were almost no sounds of the city. He could practically hear his heart pounding in his chest. 

That was until a high, whining howl filled the silence. 

Aone stopped, frozen in fear. The feeling of being watched returned, all the more powerful, leaving him nearly breathless. 

The howl stopped and gave way to the pounding of paws on the pavement. 

It was like a spell broke and suddenly Aone was able to regain control of his limbs. The moment he realized that the animal was running after him, he knew that he was prey. 

He gripped his bags and ran at a full sprint in the direction to his house. 

It was still nearly ten minutes to his house, but Aone was determined to cut the time down as much as he could. The fear of the unseen creature panting and chasing after him was enough to spur him on.

He ran faster than he had in ages, faster than he ever needed to in a volleyball game. His lungs were aching. A stitch was forming in his side. But still, he ran.

He gasped, surprised at a sudden new pain. He tripped over his own feet, realizing that his calf had cramped up, tired from the energy spent at practice. 

Before he could even think of pulling himself up, there was a large weight on his back. The creature had pounced at the first sight of Aone losing speed, easily landing on the large teens back. 

Aone groaned, what little wind he had in his lungs was knocked out of him at the weight of the creature. 

He let out a frustrated sound as he dug his nails into the ground, trying to pull himself forward, hoping to cause the large animal to fall off of him. It was to no avail, however, as the animal simply planted its legs to either side of him, caging him in.

He didn’t have a chance to take in another breath, before he felt the sharp sting of teeth tear into his right shoulder, the slobber covered tongue soaking his shirt. 

Aone reacted out of pure instinct, flinging his left arm back quickly until the elbow connected with the creature, knocking it off its balance. He nearly sighed in relief as he felt the teeth release him.

With barely a glance behind him, Aone took in a deep breath and ran like a man the rest of the way home.

After reaching the safety of his house and slamming the door behind him, Aone allowed himself a moment to think back on the attack. 

He was sure it was some sort of large, brown dog, almost like a husky or shepherd mix. He could only guess it had been half feral if it chose to attack someone of his size. 

While he showered, he furrowed his brows, thinking of the weight of the dog, if the way the claws had felt against his skin, but hadn’t punctured. 

As he carefully cleaned and bandaged the wound, another thought entirely struck him. The creature hadn’t pursued him anymore after the initial bite. Sure, he supposed, he could have surprised it by fighting back, but if the dog wanted to take him out, he knew it was close enough to his neck to do so. 

At school the next day, Aone had shrugged off the teammates concerns when they had seen the large bandage covering his shoulder. They had all urged him to sit and take the day off if he was injured, but Aone had simply shook his head. He could still use the left arm perfectly. 

“If he wants to play, let him,” Futakuchi called, not one to coddle the players. He, himself, was sporting a large yellow bruise over his jaw, so he wasn’t one to talk about taking time off.

Over the next month, things had felt wrong to Aone. Sounds began to overwhelm him. The usually gentle tones of the school bell started to sound like they were ringing directly in his ears. 

A week after the attack, he had walked into the volleyball club room and nearly gagged. All of the different smells and sweat had caused him to turn and run away. He hadn’t been able to go in for another week, slowly taking his time going in each day to desensitize himself. 

A couple of weeks after the attack, he realized that his wound had completely healed. The flesh that had been torn and nearly hanging loose, was now molded back to his skin, shining pink. The scar could have been a year old from the way that it looked and felt. 

Three weeks after the attack, Aone had completely obliterated the volleyball club room door. He had gone to open the door for Futakuchi, only for him to swing his arm back and immediately rip the door free from its hinges.

“My Aone, What strong arms you have,” Futakuchi had teased, a mocking laugh immediately following.

At this point, Aone knew that things were very wrong. So, he stopped going to volleyball club. It was the only extracurricular that he participated in, it was his heart and soul, but he felt he was a danger to those around him. 

It was now a month after the attack. A month full of strange symptoms that never made sense to him. A month of Aone feeling like he had begun to lose his mind.

He woke up that morning with anxiety higher than he’d ever felt before. Aone text Futakuchi to let him know that he’d be missing school and volleyball club today. There was a sense of foreboding that nearly made his bones ache.

The teen spent most of the day in his room, staring at the wall. The sounds around him had begun to make him feel like he was losing touch. He could hear the school bells from his room, despite the fact that he lived a good two miles from the school. 

His mother had started the rice cooker and he nearly puked from the simple smell of rice and water boiling. 

Aone locked his bedroom door and resolved to stay in one spot on his bed until the day and the weird feeling had left him completely.

He lost track of time, eyes focused solely on a small crack in his wall. If he stared hard enough, he could let the world and the sounds melt away. 

Before he knew it, night time was upon him. 

The yellow moon shone through the curtains and something new awoke in Aone. 

His heart began to pound and it felt like his skin was being bitten by hundreds of tiny bugs. 

He stood suddenly, feeling the need to pace back and forth. Something, anything to distract him from the new sensation that spread across his skin.

As he started to get used to the prickling sensation over his skin, Aone felt an aching in his gums. He nearly cried out as he felt a pulsing from deep within every tooth. He tried to grit his teeth, only to find that his mouth wouldn’t close around the newly elongated fang-like teeth.

He let out a quiet groan, fingers curiously touch the aching teeth, as he ran to his mirror. He suddenly realized that something very wrong had happened to him.

His eyes were glowing as gold as the moon. Silver tufts of hair covered his skin from his face down to the backs of his hands. And I’m his mouth rested long, sharp canines.

The panic was setting in, before a new sensation filled him. His bones were aching, feeling as if they were about to split in two in some places. He let out a strangled, half scream, his body twisting in anguish as it tried to find the correct position for the bones.

The most pain rushed through him the moment that his skull began to reform. His jaw broke, only to reform itself longer than before, finally making room the new, sharp teeth. He let out another cry, feeling terror rush through him as he realized that it sounded like the howl of the dog from a month before. 

He was only vaguely aware of a pounding on his bedroom door, his mother clearly concerned, wanting to know what was causing her son to cry out in such pain.

The only thought that crossed his mind was that she couldn’t see him like that. 

Without thinking, Aone rushed towards his bedroom window, crashing through the second story. Running on pure instinct, he landed on his feet, only superficial scratches from his window covering his skin. He looked down to the paw like hands and noted how the scratches were already healing. 

He awkwardly tried to run on his legs, before realizing they were twisted too weirdly and that bipedal running was no longer an option. With a quiet whimper, Aone dropped to all fours. 

Suddenly, he was able to run far faster than he ever had before. The pain was finished now, leaving Aone to feel free as he ran through the city streets on all fours. 

A feeling of elation began to fill him. He hadn’t felt this happy and free for a long time. It almost made all the pain and weirdness of the last month worth it. 

Before he realized it, another dog like creature was at his side, running happily. Aone turned to look at it briefly, before realizing it was the dog that attacked him. The brown fur clear in his memory.

He let out a low growl, before sharply nipping at the other creature, letting it know he was displeased. The brown creature leapt in front of him, playfully wiggling its rump.

Aone was more than displeased by the way the creature seemed to tease him. He surged forward, bowling the other creature, his teeth snapping at the brown fur, unsure of where to land. 

The brown dog let out a huff, almost like an annoyed sigh, before it shook itself, turning to face Aone completely. 

It gave a low warning growl, clearly confident in its abilities, despite the fact that it was half the size of Aone. 

He wanted to surge forward, again, land a bite on the other creature, but he paused, eyes never leaving the other’s.

The brown creature slowly began to stand on its back legs, much like a human. With a painful groan, the dog slowly began to shrink. He watched in horror as the teeth began to recede, followed by the bones twisting back into their proper places. 

Slowly, the dog became more human like in appearance, until finally the brown fur disappeared, revealing the smirk of Futakuchi.

Despite being in the body of some dog like creature, Aone let his mouth drop open. He hesitantly backed away from his friend, unsure of what was happening. A quiet whine sounded from the back of his throat.

“Hey. Calm down, big guy,” Futakuchi said, walking forward, his hands out in front of him as if to calm the silver colored dog.

“Surely you figured it out by now? You’re safe. You’re just not human.” He said it as if it was a matter of fact, as normal as the change in weather.

Another whine sounded from Aone, his head shaking quickly as if he could wake from some bad dream. 

Futakuchi stepped forward and settled a hand on Aone’s head, stopping its fierce shaking. “Hey. It’s not so bad, right? You enjoyed running before. I’ve never seen you look so happy.”

Gentle fingers ran through the silver fur. Without thinking, Aone leaned into the touch, his eyes closing as he listened. 

“I should have told you. I know. But I was scared.” The words were soft, regret tingeing the edges. “I just got tired of being alone.”

There was so much vulnerability in Futakuchi’s voice, Aone almost couldn’t stand it. He was used to the boy being cocky, almost too over confident. But now he sounded so sad and regretful.

“I know you trusted me. And you like me more than anyone else. I just thought… you might like this.” 

Fingers lightly scratching at his ears had Aone laying down, noting as Futakuchi crouched with him. 

“I know it’s a lot, at first. And maybe you hate me now. But it’s not so bad being a wolf, right? Maybe you could learn to love it?” There was a pause, Aone could tell that Futakuchi had wanted to tack on another question at the end, but he seemed to stop himself.

The thing was, Aone knew the answers to all of those questions, even the unasked one. 

He did like being a wolf.

He could absolutely learn to love it.

And he had already loved Futakuchi for ages. 

Lifting his large head, Aone stared at Futakuchi, knowing the other boy would understand. He always seemed to understand Aone without forcing the mostly mute man to speak. 

“I-I know. I should have asked. I’m sorry.” He could hear the way Futakuchi’s heart was pounding with uncertainty. 

Aone leaned in and gently licked Futakuchi’s cheek. A simple action of forgiveness and acceptance.

The brown haired boy rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Aone’s fur covered neck. Maybe he hadn’t messed everything up, after all. Maybe he would finally have someone in his life who would stay, despite the curse that afflicted in. 

For the first time, in a long time, Futakuchi felt truly hopeful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually really loved how this one turned out. I wasn’t planning for it to be a romance, but who doesn’t love AoFuta?
> 
> So sorry for these being so late. I hope they’re worth the wait! 
> 
> I’ll be working hard to catch up with the different days and prompts!


	8. Who’s The Real Clown?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Terushima is actually the guy that asks, “What are you gonna do? Stab me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Stab Wound 
> 
> Triggers: clowns, stabbing, torture, taunting, blood

Walking home from school, Terushima bobbed his head along with the music that played through his headphones. He was more than a little off rhythm, but that didn’t stop him from dancing along to the beat. 

He had plenty of troubles to worry about, but times like this, when he was walking around and had no one to impress, that helped him to feel a little more free. 

Unfortunately, these were also the times that he tended to lose himself. He was never aware of his surroundings. 

That’s how they were able to sneak up on him. 

Terushima had been in the middle of a solo dance number, the K Pop blasting in his ears. He turned one way, blocking his field of vision on one side. By the time he swung around there were two people standing, waiting for him to turn back and face them. 

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, laughing nervously as he pulled the headphones down around his neck. He clumsily grasped for his phone, turning the music off as he grinned at the people in front of him. 

One person was a little shorter than him, wearing a long, white curly wig with the hair pulled into pigtails. They had on a dirty, pink dress, that looked like it had been worn for a month straight. And their face was covered by a clear mask that had fake lipstick and eyes over the person’s real features. 

The second person was surprisingly tall, nearly a head above Terushima. But they were dressed like one of the stereotypical clowns. Large, oversized shoes, a dark red wig and a stupid, red nose.

He took in their appearances, before barking a laugh. The two looked at each other, before staring back at him. 

“Whoa. I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to scare me,” he said, coughing to stop himself from laughing. He straightened his posture and affronted a serious facial expression. 

“Okay. Try again. I promise to play along for whatever viral video you’re trying to shoot.”

The two stared at each other for another minute, clearly unsure of how to deal with his unusual behavior. 

The clown shrugged a shoulder, before slowly pulling a knife from behind his back. Terushima looked at the knife, sighing a little at the cliche. 

“Oh my god. A clown with a knife? Seriously?” His tone was clearly exasperated, but he cleared his throat, before dramatically pulling a scared face. 

“Oh no! The clowns going to get me!” He yelled, overacting to the point of parody, his hand waving in front of him as if to ward off the clown. 

The babydoll tilted her head, rather confused by this reaction. 

Terushima continued to wiggle and act afraid for a minute, before realizing they weren’t doing anything. 

He sighed again, looking at the two costumes strangers. “Damn. Tough crowd. I figured you were trying to make some viral scary video for Halloween or something. But you’re just boring.”

Terushima unlocked his phone, quickly pulling up the camera app and pointing it at the strangers. “Say cheese!” He said, before snapping a pic, grinning at the satisfying click of the camera phone. 

The babydoll suddenly turned her head, reaching behind her and pulling out her own knife. 

He let out a huff of air, clearly not impressed with the display in front of him. “Okay, I get it. You’re supposed to be scary or something. Oo. You have a knife, I’m so scared,” he said, his tone mocking.

The babydoll let out a little growl, her grip on the knife changing as she stepped closer to him. 

“Oh, please. What are you gonna do? Stab me?”

He’s barely gotten the words out, before the girl lunges forward, the knife aimed directly for his stomach. 

“Whoa! Party foul!” He said, jumping back at the last second, the knife just catching on the edge of his shirt, ripping a hole in it. 

“Hey! If you’re gonna act like you’re stabbing someone, use fake knives! You’re gonna get someone killed,” he admonished, a look of annoyance clear on his face. 

The clown shook his head, before charging forward, his knife ready to connect with flesh. He’d had just about enough of the snot nosed brat that mocked them.

To Terushima’s credit, once the taller person came rushing towards him, he stepped back quickly. Nerves suddenly shot through him as he realized that these two might not be pulling a prank. 

However, his caution was much too late. The knife swung down, landing in his left shoulder.

Pain bloomed from the wound, the hot rush of liquid seeping down his front. The fire of pain seared hotter as the sedated edges of the knife pulled back at his flesh as the clown tugged the knife back. 

“Fuck!” Terushima yelled, his hand dropping his phone in order to press to the stab wound to stemmy the bleeding. 

The babydoll gave a creepy giggle, before she ducked down, the knife stabbing into his abdomen, twisting as she released it, leaving it firmly in place. 

“Wh-What the fuck?!” Terushima asked, tears falling down his cheeks from the pain. He fell back, not able to keep himself upright due to the shock already flooding his system, leaving his limbs cold and heavy. 

The clown stepped forward, heaving a throaty chuckle as he watched Terushima scramble back. He knelt down in front of the high schooler, tilting his head menacingly and giving a twisted smile.

Terushima was shaking out of fear and the cold, shock that was setting in. He almost didn’t feel it as the knife was stabbed into his inner thigh. He more heard than felt, the squelching as the knife was twisted, causing more damage to his body. 

Careful of the knife still in his stomach, Terushima slowly felt down to his inner thigh. He could feel the knife still protruding, blood flowing down his pants.

“W-why? Why?!” He screamed, wanting some answer for the torture. 

The babydoll leaned down right into his face, before whispering, “why not, Terushima-kun?”

With that statement, they both stood up straight, before walking off down the street. 

Terushima whimpered to himself as he watched, still expecting them to turn around and finish him off. After several minutes of waiting, he slowly pulled himself back to his phone, realizing they had left it a mere meter from him. W****

“H-hello? I’ve been stabbed,” he said, once he’d managed to get his fingers to correctly call emergency services. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stand by the fact that Terushima would get stabbed after asking someone if they were gonna stab him. 
> 
> Also. This is 500% something you would see on Scream The Series.


	9. I Still Get Jealous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sugawara finds himself in a bad situation where he has to use his wits to try and get himself free. But will the person who put him here let things go so easily?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Shackled
> 
> Triggers: drugging, kidnapping, captivity

There was a fuzziness at the edge of Sugawara Koushi’s consciousness. He could feel the hard dirt floor underneath him. He breathed in and his senses were flooded with how musty and damp everything seemed.

He tilted his head to the side, trying to wake himself up, wanting to find some sign of where he was. But he couldn’t quite pull himself out of it.

He shook his head a little, hoping the movement would loosen his thoughts, take the fuzzy edge away. But instead, it just started to make him dizzy.

A low moan could be heard from him as the dizziness gave way to some nausea.

Suga was beginning to understand that something was very wrong. He thought maybe he had passed out in a park, but there were no outside sounds. In fact, he could only hear the slight drippings and gurglings of pipes.

He tried to open his mouth to call for help, only to realize that his mouth had been stuffed with cloth, gagging him effectively. 

Finally, Suga popped his eyes open, blinking confusedly as they opened into nothing but darkness. As he turned his head, there were the occasional slivers of light, but nothing that was so bold that he could see through the pitch black. 

He sat up quickly, almost too quickly, if the nausea was any indication. He closed his eyes again, breathing in slowly as he tried to stave off the nauseous attack. From the way his mouth was gagged, he knew it could be really dangerous if he got sick. 

Once the nausea passed, he opened his eyes again, hoping that some light could be seen. Alas, there was nothing. 

He moves his hands, realizing they were tied together with some type of rope. At least they were in front of him, he thought idly. He couldn’t imagine how painful it would be to have them tied behind him for any period of time. 

He took a moment to mentally shake off the fuzziness in his brain, before he properly assessed the situation. 

He was sure that he had been drugged at some point. That explained why it had taken him so long to wake up and gain control of his body. But how did it happen? he tried to remember what he was doing before he woke up here.

Coming up empty, Suga decided that he would try to stand up and wander around the area. It wasn’t the safest idea, but it would give him more information. 

Unfortunately, the moment he tried to move his legs, he realized that the right one was nearly immobile. Every time he tried to move his leg, a chain could be heard. 

He reached down with his hands, his fingers gliding down his legs until they connect with some type of metal that encircled his right ankle. He tugged at the chain attached to the shackle, scooting on his bottom until he reached the end, where the chain seemed to connect to a metal plate in the ground. 

He mentally tried to envision the chain, his hands gliding over it. If he was right, he had barely half a meter of chain to work with. He could barely stand properly with that amount. He definitely wouldn’t be able to explore. 

He wrapped his hands around the chain and tugged, testing the strength. After a few moments, he sucked in a sharp breath and pulled with all of his might. He grit his teeth around the cloth in his mouth and screamed, trying to get more energy to pull the chain loose.

After several minutes of effort, Suga let go of the chain and flopped back onto his back. He whimpered quietly, feeling the tears well up in his eyes as he realized what a bad situation he was in.

Suga sniffled, before considering what a bad idea it was to cry and let his nose get congested. If that happened, it would be a true struggle to breath, consider the amount of cloth that was stuffed and tied in his mouth.

He sat up again, collecting himself slowly. His hands angrily wiped at the tears in his cheeks. He was not going to be allowed to feel sorry for himself! 

He sucked in a deep breath, clearing whatever snot had formed in the moment of self pity. 

Now, he was starting to get pissed. Whoever put him in this situation was going to seriously regret it. 

Nose cleared. Tears dried. It was time for Suga to figure out his best course of action. 

He took in a breath and cracked his neck, trying to ward off the headache that was setting in, likely another reaction of whatever drug had been in his system. 

His hands moved together to probe at his mouth. The cloth was slick and disgusting feeling due to the amount of spit and tears he’d produced so far. 

Ignoring that, he slipped his fingers between his cheeks and the fabric, tugging on the fabric to loosen it some. It was a slow process, made even slower by the blooming headache that seemed to light up any time his head jostled forward.

He would stop and rest for minutes at a time, knowing that rushing could end with the nausea returning due to the pain from his head. But eventually, he was able to work the cloth loose enough so that it would go over his bottom lip, resting tight and uncomfortable just over his chin.

But discomfort didn’t matter, since he was able to pull the wad of cloth from his mouth, nearly gagging in the process. 

The moment the cloths were removed, Suga sucked in a deep breath. The gag itself was still on his chin, but having the uncomfortable wad out of his mouth was more than enough to make up for that.

He closed his mouth after a moment, realizing that he was letting his mouth fully dry out. He needed the moisture to stay there as long as he could possibly stand it, since there didn’t seem to be any source of water for him. 

Cracking his neck again, Suga’s fingers worked to loosen the gag more. The fabric seemed to rub his skin raw, but eventually he got it loose enough so that it could fall around his neck. 

Suga’s sighed in relief, glad to have accomplished at least one thing. However, he knew there were bigger fish to fry. He still had the ropes around his wrists, as well as the shackle around his leg. 

Working as quietly as possible, Suga tried to wiggle his wrists to gain more room. 

He didn’t know how long he had been awake or how long he had been actively working to free himself, but he could feel some fatigue setting in. He guessed that was due to dehydration, as well as any lingering side effects from whatever drug he was given.

After maybe half an hour of constant wiggling, he’s managed to give himself a little bit of room between his wrists, but mostly he seemed to have rubbed his skin raw.

He winced as he tried to move them again before realizing it was fruitless for the time being. 

Suga slowly laid himself back on the floor, eyes closing. Maybe it would help him more to figure out how he got in this situation. 

The last thing he remembered before waking up was the fact that he had been at a cafe. He was drinking green tea, but something hadn’t tasted right. No. That was after. 

First, he was leaving his last class of the day. Right. That made sense. So he was leaving university. 

What had happened next?

Suga squeezed his eyes shut, fighting off the tears of frustration. 

Oh! He had been passing by the gym. He did it occasionally, usually when he felt lonely or was missing volleyball. He had passed by the gym as they were finishing practice. 

They were finishing up and someone ran into him. Someone he knew. It had surprised him to find that he was at this university with someone from his past, let alone someone from his volleyball career. 

They weren’t great friends before, but they had found it to be such a funny coincidence that they were both at the same university and had literally bumped into each other. So the person had asked him out. Right then and there.

Suga remembered being so flattered because the person was handsome. They’d gone to the cafe. And Oikawa has said-

“Oikawa!” Suga yelled out, the sudden realization dawning on him. His voice was croaky and clearly unused, but the tell was loud enough that it nearly scared himself. 

So, Oikawa had done this to him? 

Suga almost didn’t want to believe it, but the facts were there. He couldn’t deny that. 

A new rage began to fill the former setter as he grabbed the chains, wilding tugging on them and rattling them angrily.

“Fucking Oikawa! You piece of shit!” 

He was yelling now, the anger clear in the tone. It wasn’t that he was trying to get oikawa’s attention, but he couldn’t help how pissed off he was with the situation. 

Was he just being razzed? Was this Oikawa’s sick idea of a twisted joke? Was this how he planned to get Suga to join the volleyball club?

His anger continued to climb until he screamed, unable to hold back his emotions. 

He took in a deep breath and tried to compose himself, his heart pounding as tears began to prick at his eyes again. He’d always been an angry crier.

His tears were cut off, however, at the sound of a door opening. Suga’s head quickly turned in the direction of the sound, finding that there were stairs above him.

Light filtered in, stinging his eyes, but giving him a chance to look around the area he had been kept in for the past few hours. Or day? He was exhausted. Maybe it was a day. 

It made sense to him as he looked around, that he had been kept in some sort of basement. He guessed he had known that really, given all the clues he could find even in the dark. 

His thoughts were cut off as he heard the creaking of the stairs, noted the silhouette he could see in the light from the open door.

“Now that wasn’t very refreshing, Suga-Chan.”

Suga grit his teeth as he heard the voice of the former Seijoh captain. “What do you want, Oikawa?!” He spit the question out.

“Well, I was coming to give you some water. But I don’t really appreciate that tone.” His captors tone was quite pleasant, teasing even, as if this were some game to him.

“Why am I here?! What the hell are you doing?” He tried to hold some of his anger in, logically knowing that Oikawa was his way out of this situation. 

Oikawa knelt down, a couple meters away. “I already answered part of that, Mr. Refreshing,” he said, delicately holding a bottle of water in his hands, showing it off to Suga. 

Despite the anger he felt, Suga’s eyes widened at the proof of water. He was suddenly very aware of how parched he was feeling. 

“Ah. See? That got you to behave.” Oikawa tossed the water to him, giving him a wink. 

Suga wanted to ignore the water out of spite, but his body scrambled forward against his wishes. He struggled to uncap the water, but once he had, he downed half of it. He forced himself to stop, knowing if he drank it all at once he’d be ill.

“Why am I here?” He tried again, voice not quite angry, a tinge of desperation hanging in the area. “Oikawa, you’re not this person.”

A scoff could be heard from where Oikawa was kneeling. “And yet I am. It wasn’t a mistake that I ran into you last night.”

Something cold settled in the bottom of Suga’s stomach. “W-What do you mean?” He hated the way his voice shook.

“I mean that I knew you went to the same university as me,” Oikawa replied, tone steady. “The thing is. I’ve always been jealous. I’ve always wanted more. To be popular. To be the guy everyone loved and wanted to be. To be the best setter.”

Oikawa stood, reaching above him to turn on the light over head, showing Suga the wicked grin that was spread across his face. 

“There’s always been someone in my way. But not this time. You’re not better than me. And you never will be, Suga-Chan. You’re going to stay right here until I can insure that.”

Before he could process what was happening, Oikawa marched forward, grabbed the cloth and stuffed it in his mouth, before pulling the gag up quickly.

“You can remove the gag again. It won’t matter. No one’s going to find you. We’ll see how refreshing you are when a few weeks have passed. Bye, Suga-Chan!”

With that final goodbye, Oikawa turned off the light, before making his way upstairs, ignoring the muffled screams that followed, until he slammed the door shut, leaving Suga in the dark again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another decent sized chapter. I know this doesn’t have a definite conclusion but that’s more so you the reader can decide if Suga escapes or not.


	10. Impulse Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanamaki has an idea of how to get back at Karasuno, but he learns the hard way that sometimes it’s better to leave things alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Unconscious 
> 
> Subjects: Hanamaki and Hinata
> 
> Triggers: mild violence, knocking someone out

It wasn’t that Hanamaki was cruel or sadistic. No. He could never be either of those. However, he was extremely impulsive. 

His impulses were rather difficult to control and usually he relied on a close friend to help curb some of his more stupid impulses.

There was the time in grade school where he had impulsively released the class’ pet rat. He’d laughed for days as he thought back to the way that his classmates had squealed and jumped away from the harmless rodent. He hadn’t even cared when the teacher, the principal, and his tired father had all lectured him separately. 

His most recent impulse had even been a good one. He and Matsukawa had been sitting in the library, both pretending to study though they were actually watching different videos on YouTube. He’d gotten the sudden urge to turn to Mattsun and press a kiss to his lips. Now they were dating. 

This was all to say, Hanamaki had impulse issues. Sometimes they worked out in his favor, but more often than not it blew up in his face.

Unfortunately, as his eyes landed on the back of a short term with bright orange hair, another impulse began to strike him.

Hanamaki chewed on his bottom lip, thinking for a moment about how he should proceed. He pulled his phone out to think of some logistics when it occurred to him that he likely should ask if the impulse is too much to follow through on.

He opened up the group chat he shared with Mattsun, Oikawa and Iwaizumi. He thought of how best to phrase his thoughts before he typed them up and sent them to the chat. 

For ten minutes, Hanamaki slowly followed Hinata through the city. He made a note of how the Karasuno middle blocker seemed to be doing some errands. 

Giving a sigh, Hanamaki checked the quiet group chat for the fifth time and decided that enough time had passed. If they had wanted to stop him they would have replied by now. 

Staying quiet, Hanamaki followed Hinata down a small alleyway, wondering exactly what the first year was planning to do down here. His questions seemed to be answered as his eyes fell on a lone bike, hidden among boxes. 

He ducked behind a nearby pillar, hoping it would conceal him. There were sounds of movement down the alley, but then it grew silent.

Pouting, Hanamaki stepped out from behind the pillar, eyes focusing immediately on where hinata should be, expecting it and him to be gone. However, the bike was where he’d last seen it, but Hinata wasn’t there.

Suddenly, he heard more movement before a flash of orange appeared in his peripheral. “Stop following me!” 

That was the last thing he heard before there was helmet slammed against the side of his head. Hanamaki had a half a second to reconsider how exactly he’d managed to get into this situation.

The helmet had connected with his head, which caused him to stumble backwards, tripping over a loose bag of garbage. He tripped backwards, his head smacking hard against some old table that a person had left in the alley either to get rid of or to hold for another day. 

Either way, Hanamaki was officially out cold. 

Hinata breathed heavily, his hands shaking as he looked down at the helmet in his hands before his eyes fell on the limp form of a teenage boy. 

He slowly moved closer, the toe of foot reaching out to poke at the unmoving body. “Hello??” He called, voice shaking a little. 

After a few more moments of studying, Hinata came to the conclusion that the person was passed out. In that instant, panic swept over him. 

“Oh my god! Oh my god. Holy crap!” He shuffled around nervously in the alley, trying to think of what to do. 

“Did I kill him? I was just scared! Why were you even following me?” 

The questions fell on deaf ears as Hanamaki was still fully out. 

Hinata sniffled a little, nerves making tears well up in his eyes. He knelt down next to the boy, eyes trained hard on his chest to indicate some rise and fall. He immediately breathed out a sigh of relief as it seemed the other teen was alive.

“Okay. That’s good. We can work with that. But now… what do I do?” 

He was rambling to himself, a slightly nervous habit that he didn’t know where it came from. 

Mustering up some courage, Hinata hesitantly moved a hand out to quickly dart forward and poke the unconscious boy’s cheek. He waited a moment to see if there would be any sign of waking or any movement at all. 

After another minute, Hinata grew bolder. He poked the cheek several times. Eventually moving on to lightly slapping the cheek as he’d seen in dramas. 

When this, too, yielded no results, he crossed his arms and tried to think of something else to do to wake the boy. 

His quiet contemplation(read: mental freak out) was interrupted by the quiet buzzing of a phone receiving several texts in a row. 

“I can text someone you know to come get you!” 

He looked the boy over, checking his pockets until he pulled the phone out of the school blazer. Glad to find that they hadn’t included a passcode, Hinata tapped on the latest text notification. 

He hadn’t meant to read the conversation, but a few key terms had caught his attention. Namely the phrases: shrimp, shortie pie and Karasuno. 

“You know what, maybe you deserved this,” he said to the body, that he was now learning was named Hanamaki.

As he had read the chat, Hinata learned that Hanamaki wanted to fake kidnap him as a way to haze Karasuno. This seemed to tickle both Mattsun and Oikawa, but Iwaizumi was firmly saying no while reminding everyone of the illegality of kidnapping. 

Hinata couldn’t help himself, he had to reply to the chat. He took a snapshot of the passed out Hanamaki, quickly sending it before typing up a message. 

“This is Hinata. Your crappy friend is passed out in this alleyway. He followed me so I taught him a lesson. You should come get him.”

He nodded, grinning smugly at the way it made him sound kinda like a badass and not some scared kid who got lucky with his aim. 

A few texts rolled in, mostly Oikawa laughing, before Iwaizumi said that they’d come find him. Even Mattsun seemed amused at his boyfriend’s fate. 

Hinata tucked the phone back into Hanamaki’s pocket, before grabbing his helmet and hopping on his bike. He knew he should have made sure the person’s friends found him alright, but even he couldn’t find the encouragement to do so. 

He started pedaling on his bike, leaving the unconscious Hanamaki behind, knowing the other Seijoh third years would be arriving soon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a poll of characters but these two tied so I decided to make it work!
> 
> If there are a lot of mistakes, please be gentle. I wrote this while half asleep last night 
> 
> Remember to vote in polls on my Twitter @fionanotjuliet


	11. These Voices Won’t Leave Me Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frustrated and broken from the things he’s heard about himself, Oikawa decides to change part of himself to make himself better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Stitches
> 
> Triggers: self-hatred, derealization, self-mutilation, needles, blood, mental illness
> 
> I’m serious. Do not read if any of those specifically will trigger you.

“Oikawa-Kun is always so loud.”

“He always talks so much.”

“God, if it’s not about volleyball, he’s talking about himself.”

“He’s so self centered.”

The different thoughts swirled around his head, making him a little woozy. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. He should be used to the different insults.

Well, they weren’t so much insults. If he really thought about it, they were just telling the truth. He was all of those things. 

These people were even being rather polite about the whole thing. They didn’t say it to his face. They weren’t taunting him and calling him names. They had the decency to stay to themselves, to talk behind his back. 

But still he heard. He always did. He always knew what they were saying about him. It was like it was projected straight to him, no matter where he was or what he was doing. 

He could be getting packing up his bags after class and the insults would come flying to his ears from the back of the room. He’d freeze for a moment, before moving on, shoulders a little stiffer.

Grabbing his volleyball bag and heading to the gym, he could practically hear the people down the hall as they talked about how much he rambled on about the sport.

But these he could handle. Mere strangers opinions never stung as much as they used to when he was younger. The opinions that hurt the worst were those of his friends. Especially Iwaizumi. 

Oikawa had been prattling on one day about how popular he had become, about how all the girls seemed to want to confess to him, when Iwaizumi has snapped.

“Okay, we get it. You’re popular and loved. Shut the hell up, Shittykawa, and get a better personality.”

He had frozen, eyes wide, as he stared directly at Iwaizumi, trying to calm himself. He’d pressed his lips together, hoping he wouldn’t burst into tears in front of his long time friend. 

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Iwa-Chan,” he’d replied, voice quiet. He calmly grabbed his things and walked away, leaving a bewildered Iwaizumi behind, wondering just what had happened to cause that reaction from Oikawa. 

Which led Oikawa to this point. He stood in his bathroom, eyes rimmed red from frustration at himself. If he could just be quiet, then maybe he would be tolerated more. Maybe Iwaizumi wouldn’t think he was so shitty.

He gripped the sink until his knuckles were white, trying to focus on himself in the mirror. The world seemed to fade in and out. The person in the mirror didn’t look like him anymore. It looked like some monster.

Sniffling quietly, he reached for the sewing kit in the cabinet. If he could just shut up, then maybe people would love him. 

He found the thickest thread and with a new calm demeanor, he unwound nearly half a meter of the thread. He grabbed a thick needle that was sharp and pointed. It didn’t look like the typical needle they used for buttons, but it looked like it would work for what he needed it to. 

With precise movements, Oikawa managed to thread the needle after just a couple of tries. His fingers felt numb, as if they belonged to someone else as he doubled the thread and tied a knot. 

He licked his lips, his head tilting a little as he stared at his own face in the mirror. He knew it belonged to him, but it didn’t feel right. 

With his eyes on the mirror, he brought the needle up to his lips. He swallowed, before moving the needle to the edge of his smile. Sucking in a sharp breath, he shoved the needle through the skin and muscle, right through to the other side, pulling until the knot caught on his skin.

He breathed slowly, watching as a small drop of blood made its way down his chin. It hadn’t hurt nearly as much as he thought. Part of him was still numb, making him feel cold.

Oikawa pulled the thread taut, before grabbing his upper lip this time. He pushed the needle through the skin, pulling it through until the corners of his lips were brought together. 

He nodded to himself, lips pressing together a little to give him an idea of how tightly they would be sewn shut once he finished. 

With a cold steadiness, Oikawa continues to weave the needle and thread through his lips. Beads of blood were dripping through the pinprick holes, some solidifying on the thread itself, but he continued to work. 

The pain was bad, but it helped to distract him from the inner turmoil in his brain. He was finally able to just shut down and focus on the task at hand. His hands worked methodically, rarely stopping. 

However, he was interrupted by someone knocking on his bathroom door. His lips were sewn shut about three-quarters of the way, so he couldn’t tell the person to leave him alone. 

The door handle jiggled, before a curse could be heard on the other side.

“What are you doing, Trashkawa? I’ve been trying to call you for hours. Your mom said she hasn’t heard you up here all day. What’s going on?”

The voice startled Oikawa, causing him to drop the needle and let it hang loose. He hadn’t expected Iwaizumi to come over. If nothing else, he anticipated the other boy to avoid him. 

The sudden sound of another person on the other side of the door caused his adrenaline to officially kick in. His hands were shaking and he nearly opened his mouth to call out. However, the thread in his lips began to pull into the fresh wounds. 

He made a sound in the back of his throat from the pain, his hand moving up to cover his mouth. 

Tears began to prick at his eyes again as he realized just what he had been doing all this time. He was in such a bad state of mind, his hands had seemed to move of their own accord. 

He began crying in earnest, realizing just how badly he’d messed up. His mother was going to be so worried about him. And Iwaizumi… he’d blame himself somehow. 

“Oikawa? Are you crying?” The tone had shifted from annoyed, to immediately concerned. Iwaizumi jiggled the handle again before he began pounding on the door. 

Oikawa sniffled, trying to calm himself a little so that he would look just slightly less like a mess than he really did. But as he glanced at the mirror again, he realized there was no fixing this. 

“Tooru! You need to let me in right now or I’m breaking this door down!” Iwaizumi had yelled, the concern now giving way to desperation and panic. His mind was racing with all the things he might find on the other side of the door, but nothing could really prepare him.

Oikawa knocked on the door, giving the only signal he could manage, before he opened the door. He kept his head low, shame filling him as he prepared for the judgment.

Iwaizumi quickly stepped in and glanced around the bathroom, trying to piece together what had happened. He gripped Oikawa’s hands, noting the blood on the fingertips. He quickly turned the hands over so he could check Oikawa’s wrists. 

“What did you do?” He asked, panic still filling him as he tried to figure out what was causing the blood. The light catching on the needle caught his attention, noting the way the silver was covered in a rust color.

Something heavy and cold settled in Iwaizumi’s chest as his eyes followed the needle and thread up to Oikawa’s lips. He sucked in a sharp breath as he saw the mess of red and thread covering them. 

His hands moved up to gently grasp Oikawa’s face, tilting his head towards the light so Iwaizumi could properly see the damage. His own eyes grew watery as he realized that Oikawa had stitched his own lips closed. 

“Tooru. Oh, Tooru. Why?” Iwaizumi’s voice sounded so quiet and broken that Oikawa’s heart stuttered in his chest. He didn’t know what reaction he expected, but this definitely wasn’t it. 

Oikawa sniffled quietly, before shrugging his shoulder, the only response he could really give.

Iwaizumi nodded, gently maneuvering Oikawa until he could sit the taller boy on the toilet. “I’m going to cut the threads loose before they scab over, okay?” His voice was quiet, trying not to upset Oikawa more than he clearly was. 

Oikawa nodded, eyes still not quite meeting Iwaizumi’s, even as the other male grabbed a pair of scissors from the sewing kit. He watched as Iwaizumi grabbed some alcohol and sterilized the scissors. He wanted to tell Iwaizumi not to bother, since he was pretty sure he hadn’t sterilized the needle or the thread.

Iwaizumi knelt in front of Oikawa, before gently cutting the threads loose. “Don’t open your mouth until I have them all cut,” he said, voice softer than Oikawa was used to hearing. 

He worked efficiently, making sure the threads were properly cut, before he gently used his thumb to pull the lips apart, inspecting the damage. “Okay. I think you can open your mouth.”

Oikawa nodded slowly, before hesitantly opening his lips. He winced as he felt the threads pull loose from the holes in his lips. 

Iwaizumi carefully pulled any other threads loose that hadn’t come apart on their own. Before they knew it, Oikawa’s lips were free, the only sign of the ordeal were the swollen, scabbed pinholes from the needle. 

“Thank you, Iwa-Chan,” Oikawa whispered, brows furrowed as he now felt the pain from the ordeal he’d put himself through. 

“You shouldn’t thank me,” Iwaizumi said, grabbing peroxide and some cotton to clean the wounds. “I should have known you weren’t okay. I should have been here to stop you.”

Oikawa shook his head, reaching out to gently cup Iwaizumi’s face to make him look Oikawa in the eyes. “I’m… not well, Hajime. That’s not your fault.”

Nodding, Iwaizumi blinked his own tears away. “We’ll get you help?” He held his breath, hoping that Oikawa agreed.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Oikawa nodded his head. “I think that would be good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. This was a little heavier than I was originally intending. I wanted to do something with stitched lips, but I didn’t necessarily think it would go this way. 
> 
> But it does have sort of a happy ending because I imagine Oikawa gets the help he needs to be healthy and happy.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shirabu isn’t a fan of Halloween. He’s especially not a fan of Kawanishi’s idea for a Halloween party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Don’t Move”
> 
> Triggers: blood, evisceration, serial killer

Shirabu had never really been into Halloween. It was gaining in popularity, but he just couldn’t make himself see the point. 

Sure, dressing up was fun, but you could do that without a mandated holiday telling you to do so. Candy was nice but you could buy that at any time. And horror movies were fun no matter the time of year. 

He just didn’t get it.

Kawanishi was quite the opposite.

It was a lot of fun having a set reason to dress up in a costume. He could be anything he wanted and no one would really second guess it. Candy was nice, but he preferred the camaraderie of hanging out with friends. Horror movies were fine, but classic Halloween movies were made just for this time of year.

“Wait. You seriously don’t do anything for Halloween? Like at all?” Kawanishi had asked, turning to stare Shirabu down.

“No? Why do you care?” Shirabu asked, folding his uniform so it wouldn’t become wrinkled.

“Uh. Because it’s the best time of the year. Halloween parties where everyone gets dressed up are the best. I was hoping we could throw one in the commons area.”

Shirabu scrunched his nose up at the suggestion. “Please don’t. Halloween is on a week day. We all have to be up for early morning practice the next day.”

Kawanishi scoffed. “Not on actual Halloween. Please. I was thinking the weekend before. On a Saturday. So we don’t have to worry about getting up the next day.”

“Mm. I still don’t like it. It’s going to be all loud,” Shirabu said, pulling his practice clothes on. 

“You’re a party pooper, Shirabu,” Kawanishi interjected, hand on his hip. “You don’t have to go. Wear ear plugs if you’re that worried about noise.”

“Find a different place to hold your party. The common area is for everyone. Not just you.”

Kawanishi sighed, before kneeling down. “Please?? Please don’t ruin this for me. It won’t even be that loud. I will put up signs saying the hallways are off limits. No on will go near your door.”

Shirabu sighed before sitting down to tie up his shoes. “Fine. But make sure I don’t hear a peep.”

“Yes! You’re the best!” Kawanishi said, before standing up quickly and ruffling Shirabu’s hair.

“I can and will revoke your access if you touch me again,” he said, pulling away from Kawanishi and moving out to the gym. 

—

It was the night of the party and Shirabu had locked his dorm door. It wasn’t that he was morally opposed to fun and parties, but he always ended up feeling weird. So he found it easier not to go. 

He curled up on his bed, blankets wrapped around him. He pulled his laptop closer, a superhero movie playing to occupy his time. 

He stayed like that, headphones on, cozy under his blankets for a few hours. But after a while, he realized he probably should have grabbed a drink from the vending machine before he settled in for the night. 

After thinking about it, he sighed, pausing the movie and throwing the blankets off of him. He grabbed his keys and pulled his slippers on, before leaving the dorm. He left his phone behind, figure he had no use for that.

As he opened the door and headed down the hall, he suddenly realized that it was extremely quiet. Almost too quiet. 

“Maybe Kawanishi decided to end the party early,” he mumbled, still confused by how quiet it was as he headed towards the common area. 

Once he arrived, his brows furrowed as he looked around, feeling puzzled. The tv was smashed and a table had been turned over, leaving all the snacks scattered around the common room floor. There were red marks all over the floor and walls.

“Uh…” Shirabu looked around more, trying to figure out what had happened. “Someone’s going to be in trouble.”

A sudden sound to his right startled him out of his thoughts. He turned quickly to see the closet burst open as Kawanishi ran to him, grabbing his arm. 

“Did you not read my texts?” The taller boy asked, voice a harsh whisper as he pulled him along to the closet, before quietly closing it behind them.

Shirabu looked up confused at Kawanishi. “What the hell, Kawanishi?” He asked, before having a hand clapped over his mouth.

“Don’t talk so loud. God, you should have read your texts,” kawanishi whispered, slowly uncovering Shirabu’s mouth. 

“What is going on?!” He whispered harshly, confusion making him irritated. “Why is the common room trashed?!”

“Someone is in the school. They… I don’t know what they want. They just went crazy and started attacking people.”

Shirabu rolled his eyes. “Are you seriously trying to pull a prank on me? On Halloween? You’re unbelievable,” he said, voice loud. 

“Shhh! I’m not playing around! they got Semi. Dragged him away somewhere. Shirabu I’m not kidding,” he said, voice trembling through the whispers.

“I wasn't born yesterday, Kawanishi,” Shirabu said, groping around on the door for the handle. 

“Stop it! Don’t move!” 

But it was too late, Shirabu had found the handle and opened the closet door, slamming it behind him. If Kawanishi wanted to hide around in some closet he could.

Shirabu angrily made his way down the hall, back to his room. He halfway expected some people to pop out suddenly, to yell that he was being pranked. But it was silent as he made his way back. 

But as he looked up, he noticed someone down the hall. There was blood covering their clothes, but they didn’t seem all that bothered by it.

“Semi, if that’s you, I’m going to scream,” he said, completely done with the whole experience.

The person didn’t say a word, just continued making their way towards Shirabu, who refused to budge out of the way. The person pulled their hand from behind their back and slashed forward as soon as they were right in front of Shirabu.

The knife easily slid through his stomach, almost painless with the swipe. But still, Shirabu gasped as he looked down, noting the way the blood and guts seemed to spill out of his stomach. 

“Oh,” was all he could manage to say, before he passed out from the sight. Passing out was a mercy as he didn’t feel any pain as he died. 

The school lost four students that night. Semi, Shirabu, Kawanishi, and Tendou. They never found out the motive for the murders. The killer had simply laughed as the police arrive, before slitting his own throat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had another idea for this prompt, but as I began writing, I realized it was meant for a bigger project that will likely be after these prompts are finished.


	13. Survival of the Fittest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ennoshita decides to go on a weekend trip with his Australian Shepherd. The weather is great and he has one last weekend before university. Time to enjoy it while he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Adrenaline 
> 
> Triggers: serious injury, broken leg, open fracture, blood, starvation, dehydration

Ennoshita had set off early in the day. He’d packed up a bag with a small tent and sleeping bag, as well as a few meals for himself and his dog, Emi. They were going hiking for the weekend and it was going to be great. 

He whistled, getting the dog to run out down from the porch and into the open back door. “Good girl, Emi,” he said, scratching her head before pulling the seat belt through the harness.

Ennoshita said goodbye to his mothers and left on his weekend journey. He and Emi were going to be hiking a simple trail around a local forest, camping overnight and then hiking out. It’d be a simple trip that he was sure would lead to some beautiful pictures. 

The trail was an hour away, but the drive was easy and Emi kept him company as they made their way to the car park. Once there, Ennoshita turned off his phone and threw it in his pack, before taking Emi’s leash and attaching it to the bag too. 

They set off together down the trail, breathing in the fresh air. Occasionally they would stop when Ennoshita saw a great picture opportunity. The light would filter in through the leaves nicely, leaving a nice pattern across the path. 

The two came across a fork in the path and Ennoshita stopped for a second to consider. He didn’t have a map, but he knew that one of these paths would lead to a shortcut and the other would loop along a longer path.

“What do you think, Emi?” He asked the little shepherd, watching as she seemed to pace along the two paths, before sitting in one. “That your final choice?”

He smiled and pet her head, before continuing straight ahead. Even if it was the longer path, it’d only add about 11 kilometers to the already decently sized hiking trail.

Together, they set off on the trail, careful of the steeper pathway as they moved further up the mountain. He stopped occasionally, making sure that they would rear and stay hydrated. 

Usually, Ennoshita would leave the dog on her lead, but as he looked around the empty trail, he decided to let her loose. Emi happily circled around him, running back and forth on the trail, but never leaving his sight. 

The two were a few kilometers into the trail when they came over the highest point yet, revealing a cliff to the side of the trail. Ennoshita smiled brightly, before quickly grabbing the camera and snapping a few pictures from the top of the cliff edge.

He steadied the camera before preparing to take a panoramic photo. The way the sun shone over the treetops below was enough to take his breath away. This was why he had come all this way. 

Ennoshita was just finishing up his photos when he decided it might be a good time to have a snack. He knelt down, setting the bag on the ground so he could grab some snacks for himself as well as a few treats for Emi. 

But as he knelt down, the edge of the cliff began to slowly crumble underneath him. Ennoshita could feel himself begin to slide down and he gasped, quickly clawing into the loose soil. But the soil would just crumble immediately, causing him to slide faster down the edge of the cliff. 

He didn’t even have time to scream as slid down the side of the cliff, unsure of how far he’d fall. His heart was pounding in his chest as he waited for the end of the fall. 

He didn't have much longer to wait as he fell to a ledge a 20 meters below the cliff edge. He cried out in pain the moment he felt his leg connect first with the solid ledge. He slumped to the side, the pain causing his vision to black out around the edges for a moment.

Ennoshita sucked in a sharp breath, tears pricking at his eyes. He took in a few slower breaths, trying to get himself to calm down so he could assess how bad the situation really was. In the back of his mind he could hear the distant barks of Emi, which seemed to pull him out of it. 

He sat up quickly, immediately regretting that decision as it made him suddenly nauseous. He turned to the left, preparing himself for the inevitable vomit, only for his eyes to be met with another cliff drop. 

The nausea forgotten, he scrambled away from the edge, noting how his right leg was useless. His back met the cliff wall and he sighed in relief. The relief was short lived once he opened his eyes and realized the ledge he was on happened to only be one meter wide.

Ennoshita looked up cautiously to where had slid down, realizing that it was a vertical climb had his heart sinking. His right leg was broken, he knew that alone from the pain and the way it refused to respond to him. 

His head fell back against the cliff and he let out a frustrated groan. He was stuck on a ledge. His pack with all of his food, water and cell phone was above him still. His leg was broken and he had no hope of climbing the crumbling cliff face. 

He wallowed for a moment, trying to find some way to get out of the situation. However, another series of frantic barks pulled him out of his misery. 

“Emi?!” He called, hope sparking in his heart as he realized that his sweet dog was okay. He glanced back up and could just see her head peeking over the edge of the cliff, likely wondering why he wasn’t coming back up to her.

“No! Stay back. Back up, Emi!” Logically, Ennoshita knew that it was pointless to yell at the dog since she couldn’t understand human speech. But he was so overwhelmed at the thought of losing her as well, he couldn’t help but call out.

While a few small rocks fell, it seemed that she was safe enough on the cliff edge for the moment. 

Ennoshita breathed in slowly through his nose, trying to gain the courage to assess just how bad his leg was. He knew that he’d have to face it sooner than later and it was best to get it over with so he could semi-treat the leg. 

Gritting his teeth, Ennoshita leaned down, trying to roll up the leg of his pants. After a few moments of trying, he realized that he wasn’t going to be able to pull the pants up due to the swelling. Swallowing any panic, he found a rip in the fabric caused from the fall and slowly tore until his lower leg was free. 

His adrenaline kicked back in as he looked at the leg, swollen and misshapen. The worst part was the way that part of his bone seemed to have come through the skin, leaving a bloody and open wound for him to contend with. 

Breathing in slowly through his nose and letting the breaths exhale through his mouth, Ennoshita tried to keep his calm. He had hiking boots, denim jeans, a tee shirt and a light jacket on him. That’s all he had to work with.

“Fuck. Okay. Okay. I can figure this out,” he mumbled to himself, trying to think of the best way to stabilize his leg. He almost wished he had fallen with the pack on, but knew that might have propelled him further down the cliff. 

In the end, Ennoshita took the shirt off and just kept the jacket on to provide a little warmth. He wrapped the tee shirt around the wound, before reaching down and untying his boots. He figured he could take the laces from his right food and tie that around the tee to keep it in place. 

It wasn’t the best wrapping, but he figured it would keep the wound from staying exposed while he was on the ledge for god knows how long. He optimistically hoped it would be a few hours, but realistically he knew he was likely in for a rough few days. 

For the first few hours, Ennoshita’s adrenaline was still pretty high, so he wasn’t feeling much pain anymore. He hated to say it, but most of the time was spent with him just feeling bored. He couldn’t walk around, even if his leg wasn’t broken. 

The stone under him did nothing but irritate him. He was afraid to lay down, frightened that he might fall asleep and roll off of the narrow ledge. 

Slowly, the adrenaline began to wear down. He realized it as his hands began to shake and he could feel the pain flaring up in his leg, again. Ennoshita tried to stave off the tears, knowing that he would be even more dehydrated at that point. 

As the sun began to set, Ennoshita felt real fear set in. The temperature had been slowly dropping over the afternoon, but now it was down right chilly. He began to shiver as the dark settled in, leaving him regretting the light jacket. 

He wished, once again, that he had access to his pack. Inside it was packed with a flannel and heavier jacket, since he knew the nights were growing colder and colder. He’d thought so far ahead, but still hadn’t been prepared for such a disaster.

In a way, Ennoshita was almost thankful for the deep, body aching shivers that wracked him. If he was shivering, he was awake. Falling asleep was out of the question lest he die from hypothermia, or roll off of the ledge. 

So he wrapped his arms around himself, occasionally rubbing them to help keep him warm. He spent the entire night trying to keep himself semi-warm and awake. 

Any time that Ennoshita would start to nod off, he’d jerk himself awake. He would slap his cheeks, determined to stay awake. 

Half way through the night, a new pain set in. He realized that he was passively hungry hours again, but now he was hungry in a way that was painful. His stomach would growl and then cramp itself in the hunger. 

He hadn’t had a proper breakfast that morning, not wanting to be weighed down before the trip. He’d only had a protein bar during the first trek of the trail. He felt so stupid, once again.

Ennoshita spent the next few hours like that. Fending himself off from the freezing temperatures, as well as trying to ignore the hunger and desperate thirst.

As the sun rose, his eyes blinked, heavy with sleep and unshed tears. He had survived the night, and he tried to revel in that victory. But he was losing hope.

Clouds filtered the sunlight and left a nervous feeling in his stomach. If it were to start raining, he’d be left soaked to the bone. Then he would surely freeze to death at night. 

Part of Ennoshita wanted to ignore the broken limb and trying to crawl his way out. Part of him fantasized about that. But he knew it was a pipe dream. He’d never be able to make it up the near perfectly vertical cliff face with a dead limb dragging him down.

“Dammit!” He screamed, the first time he really let his frustrating and pain free since the ordeal began almost 24 hours before. 

He screamed in agony, letting himself feel a little sorrow for the situation he was in, as well as a little freedom from not holding it in. 

But as good as it felt to scream and cry, it left his throat raw and his mouth dry. This led to a new cycle of feeling stupid for acting without thinking.

The sad whimpers from Emi could be heard above him, making him feel bad for worrying her more than she already was. She was loyal to a fault and it hurt Ennoshita’s heart to think that she might stay there until he was gone. 

Tearless sobs wracked his body, suddenly hit with the realization that it was entirely possible that he might die there on the ledge. So caught in his hysteria, Ennoshita missed the frantic barking from Emi. He missed the response of a person asking what she was doing all the way out there alone. 

Sniffling, Ennoshita tried to compose himself so he could calm Emi down. It didn’t make sense for her to upset herself over him. 

“Emi. Calm down,” he tried to call, before realizing what little voice he had left after the screaming was cracking and unrecognizable.

“What are you doing, puppy? What’s wrong?” He heard someone from above.

Ennoshita’s heart stopped as it filled with hope. There was someone on the trail. Maybe they could call for help.

He closed his mouth, trying to gather any amount of saliva in his mouth, so that he could swallow and moisten his throat and vocal cords. 

After a few second, Ennoshita took in a deep breath before letting out a loud cry for help. Anything to get the person’s attention. It was weaker than he preferred, but he heard the dead silence above, signaling that Emi and the stranger had heard him. 

Ennoshita looked up anxiously and after a moment a person stuck his head over the edge of the cliff. “Holy shit. No wonder your dog is going crazy. How long have you been down there?”

He almost wanted to cry as he saw the handsome face. “A day,” he croaked back, hoping that the man could hear him. 

“Fuck. Okay. I’m gonna get you out of there,” he said, moving away from the edge to grab his own bag to unpack his climbing gear. 

“Hey, what’s your name?” The spiky haired man asked, hands working quickly to reattach his harness to a strong paracord. 

“Ennoshita,” he said, coughing as the voice cracked, tired from the yelling. 

“Okay, Ennoshita. I’m a rock climber, so I have a harness that I’m about to lower down to you. Slide it over your legs and tighten it,” they yelled, before wedging a camming device into a strong crack in the cliff face. “I have this secured so you’re not going to fall.”

Ennoshita watched him work, eyes squinting as the harness was lowered down to him. He bit his lip as he carefully guided his broken leg through the harness, before carefully working it up to his thighs and hips. 

“Are you going to be able to stand?” They called down to him, realizing that his leg was seriously injured. 

Enmoshita gave him a thumbs up, before gritting his teeth and gripping the rope. He gave the rope a tug, looking up as the man stood up, ready to brace his wait. Taking in a breath, Ennoshita used the rope to pull himself into a standing position, making sure all the weight went to his left leg. 

“Good job, Ennoshita. Now you just hold on and be careful not to let your hurt leg brush against the rock.”

Ennoshita tightened his grip on the rope and rugged to let them know he was ready. It was a slow process, but it was clearly working. The man stopped a couple times to let himself rest, but eventually he was able to pull Ennoshita up. 

“Hey! Nice to meet you,” he said, once Ennoshita was on the flat surface and pulled away from the cliffs edge. “I’m Iwaizumi.”

Ennoshita smiles brightly, painful tears shining in his eyes. “I knew it,” he croaked out, laughing hoarsely. 

Iwaizumi grabbed his bag and poured a little bit of water into a canteen cup, before offering it to Ennoshita. “Don’t drink too fast. You’ll make yourself sick.” 

He nodded, carefully sipping the precious water and savoring how it coated his mouth and throat. “Oh my god. Thank you. Thank you so much,” he said, moving to wrap his arms around Iwaizumi, unable to stop himself. 

Iwaizumi laughed and pat his back, glad that he was able to help this person before things got too bad. “Hey. It’s no problem. We’ll rest up and let you hydrate before we make our way back to cell reception.” 

Before Ennoshita could reply, Emi made her way over and licked his face. He laughed, tears finally falling down his face as he moved to hug her tightly. “I’m okay. I’m safe,” he told her, petting her fur.

“She was really worried about you. I tried to give her some water but she just kept running to the edge of the cliff. Scared the shit out of me when you yelled,” Iwaizumi said, pouring some more water for Ennoshita. 

“I had thought the pack and camera was weird, but I had no idea you were down there. I’m glad you yelled when you did,” he said, watching as Ennoshita slowly drank the next cup of water.

“Thank you so much, Iwaizumi. I literally owe you my life,” Ennoshita said, bowing his head a little to show respect. 

Iwaizumi shook his head, laughing a little. “You don’t have to worry about it. I’m just glad you’re alive and safe,” he said, digging through his pack and handing Ennoshita a power bar. “Eat that slowly,” he said sternly.

Ennoshita nodded, opening the bar and taking a small bite. “I’m from Karasuno,” he said, trying to make conversation so he wouldn’t immediately stuff the bar in his mouth. 

“Ah. That’s what you meant. You recognized my face?” 

He nodded again, taking another tiny bite. “Wing spiker and former ace.”

Iwaizumi smiled and grabbed his own snack. “So. Once we’re done with this, we’ll bandage you up properly and I’ll carry you down the trail.”

Ennoshita wanted to tell him not to bother, to just hurry down the trail and call for help as soon as possible. He wanted to say that he would be okay just waiting in a tent with his food and water. But he was terrified at the prospect of being out alone overnight.

“I’m not leaving you behind, Ennoshita.” Iwaizumi said it without taking his eyes off of the other man. “I didn’t get this far only to leave you behind.”

Ennoshita gave him a wobbly smile before nodding. “Thank you, Iwaizumi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then Iwaizumi carries him out to safety and Ennoshita is able to heal feel better. And them he asks his handsome rescuer out and now you all like the thought of IwaEnno, too. Boom


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Goshiki has been courting his Knight, Futakuchi for the past several months. They’ve been able to keep it a secret until now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Tear-Stained
> 
> Triggers: hidden love (honestly not a lot)
> 
> Please read [Kissing Lessons by ramvne](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21091649/chapters/50181650?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_257455448) First

Goshiki was the Prince of Shiratorizawa. His most loyal Knight was Futakuchi. They were meant to only be Prince and subject, but along the way, they fell in love. 

It was a forbidden romance, one they knew the consequences of, but they both decided it was worth the risk.

They had been together for months now, meeting as often as they could, but never enough to truly satisfy their love for one another. They were careful, Futakuchi only requested the Prince’s detail when he was certain that it was safe. While Goshiki would pine over his handsome Knight. 

Goshiki had just finished his daily tasks, his special Knight right behind him the entire way. Part of him was vibrating with the chance to disappear, to simply pull Futakuchi with him to his chambers and hide the rest of the day away. 

Futakuchi smirked, knowing exactly what Goshiki was thinking. “M’Lord. Are you feeling quite alright? You’re seeming to shiver.”

Goshiki turned around to face him, brows drawn together in confusion. Futakuchi looked into his eyes, a smug grin on his face as he tried to make Goshiki realize what he was doing. 

“Oh!” Goshiki said, the realization hitting him, a slight blush covering the apples of his cheeks. “R-Right. It has been quite a taxing day. Please. Lead me to my chambers, kind sir.” 

“As you wish, my Prince,” Futakuchi said, bowing at the waist, before gently wrapping his hand around Goshiki’s elbow to lead him back towards the chambers. 

They continued to play the part as they walked down the halls, dutiful Knight guiding his precious Prince back to his chambers so that he could rest. No one would have thought any different of them.

Once they had arrived to Goshiki’s chambers and closed the door, the Prince immediately erupted into giggles. He continued to laugh as he sat at the vanity, going about his daily routine of removing all signs of his status. 

Futakuchi chuckled quietly to himself, removing the scabbard the held his sword and gently placing it on a table. He made sure that the sword itself was easily within reach at all times. His job was to protect Goshiki no matter what.

He moved to where Goshiki sat and wrapped his arms around the others shoulders, resting his chin on his head. 

Goshiki chuckled, moving his hands to gently rest on Futakuchi’s arms. “Kenji, what are you doing?”

Futakuchi pressed a kiss to Goshiki’s head. “Admiring my love,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

Smiling up at him, Goshiki turned until he was able to properly look at Futakuchi. “I think you should admire me with your lips,” he teased.

“Hmm.” Futakuchi released his hold on Goshiki, before gently grasping his chin between his thumb and index finger. “I think you might be right, Tsutomu,” he said, his voice dropping slightly as he said Goshiki’s given name. 

Goshiki didn’t wait for Futakuchi to make a second move, instead he chose to surge forward, capturing the lips himself. Their teeth briefly knocked together with Goshiki’s eagerness, but they both easily corrected so only their lips were brushing together in a gentle kiss. 

“I love you,” Goshiki told him between kisses, his hands tangling in Futakuchi’s brown hair.

Futakuchi smiled, his hand sliding to cup Goshiki’s flushed cheek. “I love you, too, Tsutomu.”

They moved together, gently pressing their foreheads together. 

Goshiki was about to speak again, when a loud knock sounded on the door, before it immediately opened. King Ushijima entered the chambers, a frown on his face as he looked between his son and the Knight.

“Tsutomu. Explain.” The tone left no room for questioning. 

“I-I…” Goshiki shivered, afraid of what to do or say. 

Futakuchi looked at the fear on his loves face and pressed his lips together. He stepped away from Goshiki and turned towards his King, bowing.

“I have corrupted the Prince,” he said, head still bowed and his heart pounding. The King’s personal guards rushed forward and captured him, as he knew they would. 

Tears began streaming down Goshiki’s face as he watched Futakuchi being pulled away. “W-Wait! That’s not true!” He cried out, streaks of tears staining his cheeks. 

“It is. I convinced him it would be okay. I tricked him into falling in love with me,” Futakuchi said, eyes turned away from Goshiki, knowing that he would fall apart the moment he saw the tears. 

“Then what is the truth?” King Ushijima asked, only facing his son. 

Goshiki wiped at the tears, before standing quickly so he could fully address his father. “I love him! He didn’t convince me to do anything! Please don’t hurt him!”

A small quirks of the lips hinted at a tiny smile from King Ushijima. “Tsutomu, calm down.”

The tone, again, left no room for error, so Goshiki sniffled and tried to take in a slow breath. 

“You know how I met your father, right?” King Ushijima asked, waving a hand at his guards to release Futakuchi. He moved to Goshiki and gently took the Prince’s hands.

“Satori was our strategist during the last war. He could predict exactly where the enemy would be, and we would be there, waiting for the ambush,” he explained, gently pushing Goshiki to sit down since he knew his son was likely worked up.

“He wasn’t a Lord. He wasn’t even technically a Knight. He was a page. My page,” he said, smiling softly at the memory. “But he had good ideas. I listened to him and promoted him. It would have been stupid not to.” 

Goshiki furrowed his brows as he looked up at his father. “I don’t… understand?”

Ushijima ruffled Goshiki’s hair. “My point is that I don’t care who you love. Your father was a simple commoner. Now he’s my King. If you love Futakuchi, that’s okay.” 

Ushijima wiped the tears from Goshiki’s face. “But I would have preferred to hear it from you. And not by accidentally walking in on you when I come to collect you for our dinner.”

A small gasp could be heard as Goshiki realized the time. “I forgot about dinner. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. You and your Knight can both attend now,” Ushijima said, before standing and turning to Futakuchi. 

“While I appreciate your willingness to sacrifice yourself for my son… do not ever lie to me,” he said, tone moving from doting father to strong King.

“Yes, sir. My apologies, My King,” Futakuchi told him, bowing immediately. 

“I look forward to you both joining us for dinner. Tsutomu, prepare to tell your father all about your courtship. That will be your punishment for keeping this secret.” With that, King Ushijima And his guards left the room, heading back to the dining hall.

Once the door was closed, Futakuchi moved back to Goshiki, gently taking his face in his hands. “Are you okay, my love?” 

Goshiki burst into tears, again, before shoving at Futakuchi. “Don’t do that again! I thought I was going to lose you!” He cried, before standing and wrapping his arms around his love. 

“Ah. I’m sorry, Tsutomu. I was just trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need protection, Kenji! I just need you,” he said, eyes still shining. 

Futakuchi gently tucked a lock of hair behind Goshiki’s ear, before leaning in to press another kiss to his lips. “And you have me, my love. For now and forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was already going to write GoshiFuta to taunt my friend ramvne but he released his cute Prince Goshiki/Knight Futakuchi story yesterday and I had to make it a little angsty. But hey! Happy ending?!
> 
> Follow me on Twitter @fionanotjuliet and follow ramvne @pissmoths and @yuujilovebot


	15. Wounds Can Heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi is finally able to go visit Ennoshita in the hospital after over two weeks of not being able to have visitors. 
> 
> A continuation from Chapter 13 where Iwaizumi rescued Ennoshita from a cliff ledge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: scars 
> 
> Triggers: amputation

Iwaizumi wasn’t sure why he was feeling so nervous. He’d been calling up to the hospital nearly every day for almost two weeks. They couldn’t give him real any information, but they did tell him when Ennoshita would be able to receive visitors.

Considering just how long it had been since Ennoshita had been taken into the hospital, Iwaizumi was sure that something awful had happened. 

His heart pounded as he made his way through the hospital halls, the cellophane around the melon in his hands crinkling as he moved.

As he turned the corner, he took in a breath as he spotted the number beside the door. He took in a deep breath, feeling silky for the nerves. He was only giving the melon to the other man. He didn’t even know him. 

Iwaizumi knocked on the door, waiting for a response. He slowly poked his head in first, before giving a wave to the figure in the bed and entering the room.

Ennoshita pulled himself up into a sitting position, a wide grin spreading across his face. “My hero!” He called with a croaking voice, before waving at Iwaizumi to come further into the room.

He chuckled and moved forward until he was closer to the bed. “Hey,” he said, smiling down at the former Karasuno captain.

“Whoa. Did you bring that for me?” Ennoshita asked, looking from the melon up to Iwaizumi’s blushing face. 

Iwaizumi handed the melon over to the fascinated Ennoshita. “Yeah. Sort of a get well present. I was going to go with apples but the longer you went without visitors… well, I figured a melon couldn’t hurt.”

Ennoshita paused where he was trying to unwrap the melon, a flush spreading across his cheeks and up to his ears. “Ah. Right,” he said, fingers absentmindedly playing with the cellophane in a way to distract himself.

Tilting his head to the side, Iwaizumi tried to look into Ennoshita’s eyes, feeling a little dread as he saw the tears welling up. “W-whoa. Ennoshita, are you okay?” 

Sniffling, Ennoshita nodded, before wiping at his eyes. “Y-Yeah. I’m sorry. I’m just… there’s a lot to process right now,” he said, clearing his throat.

“No, I get it, Ennoshita. You went through a really scary ordeal. It’s gotta be a lot to finally be safe at home. Well, the hospital, but still…” Iwaizumi trailed off, feeling a little awkward as he tried to cheer up this person he’d barely known for half a day. 

“Uh. Yeah,” he said, gently setting the melon beside him on the bed, his brows pulled together. “And…” Ennoshita stopped himself with a shake of the head. 

Iwaizumi furrowed his brows, confused by the reaction but figuring that Ennoshita was just trying to calm himself down. “Don’t worry so much. You look good already. You’ll be out of here before you know it.”

Ennoshita looked up at him again, giving him a watery smile. “You’re right. Thank you, Iwaizumi.”

“No problem. Maybe when you’re all healed up, in a few months we can go on a hike together. Something simple, of cour-” He cut himself off as Ennoshita looked crestfallen and broken.

“O-or something else? I get that going on a hike is probably going to be pretty ambitious once your leg heals. That can wait,” Iwaizumi said, trying to fix whatever had hurt him.

“No. No. Iwaizumi, it’s fine?” Ennoshita tried to say, but his voice broke on the last word.

Iwaizumi floundered a little, unsure of what he should do. After a moment, he reached forward and gently put a hand on Ennoshita’s shoulder. “It’s obviously not, Ennoshita,” he said, his voice gruff but kind. 

The younger man nodded, reaching for a tissue and wiping at his eyes. “I’m…” he paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “It’s going to be a long time before I go hiking again. But… one day I’m going to.” 

Iwaizumi smiled and squeezed Ennoshita’s shoulder. “Exactly. It’s not the end of the world. Legs break and heal all the time. You may have a pretty cool scar from it. Oikawa tells me that girls love scars.”

Ennoshita couldn’t help the snort of a laugh that escaped him. The amount of irony in those statements just couldn’t escape him unnoticed. “I don’t care what girls think, Iwaizumi.” 

Oh. Iwaizumi blushed a little, before nodding. “Okay. That’s good to know.” 

Licking his lips, Ennoshita nodded, before looking up at him. “And I’m… my leg won’t be healing the way you think.” His voice was soft. 

Iwaizumi tilted his head a little as he looked down. “I don’t understand?”

“So. I don’t exactly know everything that happened. But I went in for surgery. But I got sick after. I guess some sort of infection got into my bone,” he said, looking away from Iwaizumi.

“Okay. They give you antibiotics and clean as much as they can. Right?” 

Ennoshita shook his head. “I guess they tried that. But with my bone being exposed for so long… it was better in the long run to amputate,” he said, voice quiet.

Iwaizumi squeezed his shoulder, unsure of what to say. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked down at Ennoshita and wondered if there was something he should have done differently. “I-I’m sorry.”

Brown eyes looked up quickly. “Hey. Don’t be. I’m just… I’m adjusting,” he said, putting on a smile. “I’m alive. And I’m out of ICU. I was just feeling sorry for myself.”

Iwaizumi shook his head in disbelief. “I think you’re allowed to feel sorry for yourself, Ennoshita.

Taking in another deep breath, he shook his head. “Nope. No. I did that after I first woke up. It was… well, I’m glad they didn’t allow visitors then.”

He couldn’t help it. Iwaizumi let out a little laugh. “You’re kind of amazing,” he said, before pulling a chair up to the side of the bed and settling in. 

“I am not. I literally started panicking when you mentioned hiking. I didn’t want to tell you about it.”

“I’m glad you did. Otherwise I’d still be suggesting things like hiking.”

Ennoshita smiled softly at Iwaizumi. “It’s going to be a while before I can do that, Iwaizumi.”

“Hmm,” he said, turning to give Ennoshita a smile. “Then we’ll just find other things we can do together.”

Ennoshita relaxed against the pillows and nodded. “I like movies. Of all kinds. Maybe when I get settled at home again, you could come hang out?” 

Iwaizumi nodded, before standing. “I think that sounds like a plan,” he said, grabbing his phone and handing it to Ennoshita. “Give me your email and we can stay in contact.”

Taking the phone, Ennoshita grinned, all traces of sorrow forgotten for a moment. “Okay. Perfect. I look forward to it.”

“I do, too, Ennoshita.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I like to think that Ennoshita just gets really down on himself before snapping out of it and moving on. 
> 
> Also. Enno And Iwa are not actually going out on a date. Yet. 
> 
> I’m probably going to move these chapters to their own story later. And then continue it. Please comment if you’re interested


	16. An Eternal Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nishinoya never meant to fall in love with Ushijima. He knew it would make him weak. Meanwhile, Ushijima never thought he’d love someone like Nishinoya. They were different, but Ushijima didn’t realize just how different they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pinned down
> 
> Triggers: gore, blood, cannibalism, the usual
> 
> Subjects: Ushijima/Nishinoya

It had been months. And Nishinoya was starving. 

This. Exactly this. It was why he avoided romantic entanglements with humans. It never ended well for his kind. 

But it wasn’t something he had planned. Ushijima had snuck up on him. He had managed to charm Nishinoya without ever even trying.

It had been one date. Nishinoya had broken the man down and finally convinced him to go out. The date was a simple ruse, one he had used countless times.

—

“Nishinoya-san. You haven’t eaten anything on your plate. Does it not suit your taste?”

The smaller man chuckled and pushed more of his food around the plate. “Ah. Not really. It doesn’t help that I don’t have much of an appetite.”

That part was a lie. He was actually starving. And the smell of Ushijima just centimeters away had his stomach growling.

“Would you like to try my food? Maybe it will suit your tastes more.” Without an answer, Ushijima pushed his bowl of ramen over to Nishinoya, an expectant smile on his lips.

Nishinoya blinked at the bowl of food and then looked back to Ushijima. “Y-you don’t have to share your food with me, Ushijima.”

“I know. But I want you to enjoy yourself. It’s not fun sitting there while your date eats, but you’re not able to do the same.”

A small smile crossed his lips and he couldn’t bear to let the cute man across from him down. Without thinking, Nishinoya grabbed his chopsticks and gathered a bite of noodles and meat. He bit into it while holding his breath and fighting the urge to gag. “It’s good!” He announced, sliding the bowl back to Ushijima as he worked through the bite.

“You could have more if it suited you better. I don’t mind sharing.” 

Nishinoya smiled and shook his head, finally swallowing the bite of food. “No. No. It’s good, but I promise, it’s not the food. It’s just me.”

Ushijima had given a solemn nod, before offering a small smile. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I’m positive Ushijima!” He said excitedly, smiling brightly, before moving along with the date.

He had meant to have Ushijima for dinner that night. But instead, they had shared a kiss. It was the slightest taste, nearly a tease for him, but it was good enough for him. 

Instead he set another date for himself and Ushijima. Then he went out hunting for some stranger that wouldn’t mean a thing to him other than dinner. 

—

That would have been fine if it had been a few dates. It would have been perfect if he’d gotten bored and finally decided to stop playing with his food. But that wasn’t what happened.

Nishinoya had fallen in love with Ushijima. 

No one would have been more surprised than him to find that his hyperactive, sociable self had fallen in love with a quiet, serious man like Ushijima. 

He supposed there was something to be said for the colloquialism of ‘opposites attracting.’

The problem was that Nishinoya wasn’t the same species as Ushijima. He needed human meat to survive. Unfortunately, intermingling with his prey was doing something to confuse his senses. 

At first, it hadn’t been a problem for him to date Ushijima and then go out later in the evening to hunt. It had been a good arrangement. 

But then they started to have sleepovers. Which didn’t interrupt his hunting schedule too much. He would simply leave the next morning and go find something to eat. 

Eventually, the sleepovers lasted longer. For days at a time. Nishinoya was starving but he was in love. He preferred to stay with Ushijima over going out to find food. 

Although, it wasn’t just the fact that he didn’t have time to hunt and eat. He found that the idea of eating someone that looked or smelled remotely like Ushijima had his stomach turning. 

Nishinoya had never found fault with what he was and how he had to survive. It was his life and he had been born this way. He wasn’t that different from a human, in his mind. 

But now that he was romantically involved with a human, he couldn’t bring himself to eat his official diet. Raw meat was disgusting, but it helped to curb some of the cravings. But he hadn’t had a proper meal in months. 

He practically lived with Ushijima at this point, only really leaving when his work required him to go out of town. If Ushijima thought it was strange that Nishinoya rarely ate food, he didn’t comment. When he caught Nishinoya with his hands in the raw hamburger, he simply handed him a napkin. 

Ushijima had suspicions that something wasn’t exactly right with his boyfriend, but it never mattered to him. Nishinoya’s business was his own and if he felt like sharing, then he would. Ushijima had never felt uncomfortable or unsafe, so he didn’t bring it up. 

However, Nishinoya was starving. He’d lost weight, something his kind rarely ever did unless they were near death. He looked unwell. 

“Yuu. Somethings wrong,” Ushijima said one night, washing up his own plate. He had stopped trying to offer food to Nishinoya a while ago. 

The younger man looked up at him, eyes wide. Not sure what had sparked the conversation. “What do you mean, Toshi?”

“You’re sick. Or something. You’ve lost so much weight. You have no energy.” Ushijima walked over to where Nishinoya was sitting and knelt down. “What’s wrong?”

Nishinoya’s mind was screaming that he was starving. He wanted to say that he missed the way flesh felt between his teeth. How he couldn’t remember the last full meal he’d had. 

Instead he forced a smile. “Nothing. I’m fine. Don’t worry so much, Toshi.”

Ushijima shook his head, face set in a scowl. “I’m going to worry about you. I love you. Just tell me.”

Panic began to set in, which was dangerous. Panic meant that his fight or flight could easily kick in. Choosing to fight could mean injuring the one person he’d loved in his life.

Nishinoya bit his bottom lip and pulled away from Ushijima, his back settling against the sofa. “Stop. I already said I’m fine. Please, drop it.”

Ushijima misunderstood his intentions. While Nishinoya was trying to distance them for Ushijima’s safety, he thought the younger man might be afraid to tell him his secret. “Yuu, please trust me when I say that I’ll love you no matter what. I don’t care what you are. But I need you to take care of yourself.”

The words were sweet and Nishinoya believed them, but that part of his brain that controlled his self-preservation turned to eleven. His pupils turned to skits, the irises flashed orange. Saliva filled his mouth as he felt his teeth growing and turning sharper. 

“I said I’m fine,” he cried out, voice turning into a harsher tone, as if he had glass in his vocal box. 

Ushijima raised a brow, looking over the change in form from Nishinoya. “Yuu. You’re not.” His voice was calm and steady, clearly unphased by this new form.

He reached forward, right hand aiming to rest on Nishinoya’s forearm. The younger man growled, leaping forward to knock Ushijima back against the floor. Out of pure reaction, Ushijima moved his left forearm up to block any potential attack. 

Without thinking, Nishinoya inhaled deeply, smelling the sweet scent of his boyfriend’s skin. He leaned forward, teeth clamping down on a chunk of muscle. He growled inhumanly, teeth gnawing down until it met bone. 

Ushijima let out a pained groan, but otherwise stayed silent. His teeth grit together at the combination of the pain, as well as the sight of his boyfriend chomping at his flesh. His body shook from the adrenaline rushing through his body as he fought the urge to fight back against the man he loved.

Nishinoya growled around the arm in his mouth, tearing until the chunk of flesh and muscle tore free from arm. His hands held his prey down as his jaws worked to chewed the flesh until he could swallow. He was about to go in for another bite when he heard another pained groan. 

He looked down to the source and felt his heart stop. Below him was Ushijima, face splattered with his own blood, quiet and accepting as Nishinoya tore into his flesh.

With a start, Nishinoya jumped off of Ushijima, his orange eyes fading back to brown and his teeth receding back into his gums. He hurried to the linen cupboard and grabbed a towel.

“Fuck! No. No. Oh my god,” he said, tears welling up in his eyes as he moved back to Ushijima and quickly wrapped the towel around his arm. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Ushijima winced as the pressure was applied to the towel, sure that his ulna was broken as well. 

Nishinoya released his grasp on the towel, sure that the wince was due to his presence. “I-I’ll call you an ambulance. And then I’ll leave. I’m sorry.”

Reaching with his right hand, Ushijima grabbed Nishinoya’s hand. “Stop. Don’t go. I said I love you no matter what. I meant that.”

Shaking his head, Nishinoya sniffled. “I ate part of your arm!” His voice cracked, clearly distraught at the knowledge that he’d hurt the only man he’d ever loved.

“And it will heal. Yuu, I’ll be fine,” Ushijima said, letting go of Nishinoya’s hand so he could wipe the tears away with his right hand.

“It could happen again. I don’t want to hurt you!”

Ushijima gently grabbed Nishinoya’s jaw with his hand, forcing him to look at the older man’s calm face. “It won’t. If you don’t starve yourself. That’s what you’ve been doing, right?”

Eyes downcast, despite his face being held, Nishinoya nodded sheepishly. 

“Don’t. There are other ways, Yuu. Hospitals? Morgues? Does it need to be a living human?”

Nishinoya blinked, realizing that he’d never thought of that before. He had preferences for his meals, so maybe that’s why it had never occurred to him.

“I… n-no? Not technically,” he said, hand moving to apply pressure to Ushijima’s still bleeding arm. 

“So we’ll figure it out. This won’t happen again.”

Nishinoya looked up to Ushijima, eyes shining with more tears, blood dribbled down his chin. He felt disgusting, but for the first time in a while, he really felt hope. 

“Okay,” he said quietly, heart stuttering in his chest with how much love he felt for the man, the human, in front of him. 

“Okay. Good,” Ushijima said, satisfied with the answer. “Now. You should clean your face and take me to the hospital. I’ll say a dog attacked me.”

Nishinoya jumped up immediately, releasing his home on Ushijima’s arm. “Oh my god! I’m an idiot. Of course!”

Ushijima held his arm close to his chest and watched as his boyfriend ran to clean himself up. He knew that part of him should be disgusted, but he already loved Nishinoya. They were in this until death, as far as he was concerned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I never said it outright, but Nishinoya was loosely based on Ghouls from Tokyo Ghoul. except I’ve only seen one season months ago so my mythology was loosely based at best.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! As well as you can for a monster fic.


End file.
